World Tour, Season 1
by Dion Mystique
Summary: A few wrestlers/backstage talents with oddballs lives. Add 1 life coach/manager. What do you get? A whole lot of laughs! Join Matthew/Zack Ryder and his friends as they go through the ups and downs of André Sinclair's life-reformation program. OCs included or your money back :). [The third episode is posted. Remember: More love, more posts :).]
1. A Broski Moment with Zack (1) & OP 1

**Hey there, everyone :)! It's me, Dion Mystique, here with an idea for you: a WWE sitcom. I noticed how much fire the DIVAS are getting with their new reality TV show (love it, by the way :)!). So I decided to work on a sitcom, and I wanted to know what you guys thought. So far it's a one-shot, and I will only continue upon getting feedback. I'm a little nervous about this ... ... So, let me know what you think :). Be honest with me here. Now, without further delay, here is my sitcom: World Tour, starring a few names (big and small) in the company. Some OCs here and there, but yeah :).**

**~ Dion Mystique, Author**

* * *

**(~~~ ***_** World Tour **_*** ~~~)**

Fan-Fiction Sitcom by

Dion Mystique

* * *

**~ A Broski Moment with Matt ~**

**Scene**

Locker room in the Reliant Arena in Houston, Texas. Empty lockers in the background. Vending machine stage right. Open doorway to restroom and showers between vending machine and lockers. Long, blue bench center state. Locker room entrance stage right. Matthew/Zack enters from showers, dries head with towel and begins monologue with audience, painting the facet (focus) of the pilot episode.

**X~~~*~~~X**

You know, when I was a little boy, I would sit in front of my television. A fake championship belt around my waist. Shirtless, sporting my chicken muscles like a peacock with a Richie Rich haircut ... And I would always cheer, "I'm number one! I'm number one!"

... Then my mom would yell from the kitchen in her Brooklyn accent, "Matthew Brett Cardona! What did you do to my aluminum foil?! And why is there mustard all over the counter, ya little boomer?!"

Of course, twenty minutes of "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" and "You're going to get it!" came afterwards. Then, a "Kung Fu Mama" spanking. Next, the grounding. Later, about thirteen minutes of "AAH! AAH! MY MAMA SPANKED ME! AAH! AAH! AAH!" ... Finally, I would turn on my television and continue watching the highlights of the Hulkamania era.

When the show was over, I'd eat dinner, bathe, do my homework and go to sleep. That was every Monday ... _Every_ _single_ Monday: mess up the kitchen, pretend to be a wrestling champion. Get yelled at, get a butt-whooping ... Ouch! ... ... Cry like a baby, pretend to be a champion AGAIN ... Eat, get ready for bed and start counting sheep before 9 PM. It was either go to sleep or listen to my dad's drunken rants about the high cost of health care and the downfall of commerce.

And when I finally got my big shot ... When I _finally_ signed a developmental contract with the WWE, I was excited! I was calling _all_ my family members! _All_ my friends! Thanking the people that helped pave the way for me ... ... I was and I still am an humble guy. I remember the people who helped me get to where I am in my career. The fun times. The hard times. The ups and downs. The people who talked to me, gave me pointers. I listened to them ... ... Their advice made all the difference.

After a few years of whirlwind storylines, merchandising, Internet popularity, multiple character changes, success, real-life trials and tribulations ... ... After _everything_ I've done for this company, these people are pushing me aside. Placing me at the bottom of the food chain ... ... "We have nothing for you right now, Mr. Cardona," is what that old crone from Corporate said to me the other day.

Really? Nothing? NOTHING AT ALL? GET OUTTA HERE WITH THAT!

I'm hungry, guys. I'm a young athlete with a desire to rise higher and higher and higher. Not for personal glory. Not for fame. Not for fortune ... ... Wrestling, just like life itself, is my passion. I _love_ this business. I _love_ my fans. Young, old, mentally and physically disabled, animals, and especially the kids who look up to me.

I ... I also need to make a living for myself. To have food to put in my stomach, a roof to put over my head, and a bed to sleep in at night. It's gotten _so_ _bad_ that ... I might not have that anymore ... ... I need to make a decision tonight: Stay and fight my way to the top ... or retire? The way things are looking ... I'm not so sure I'll choose the first option.

* * *

**Opening Theme:**

**Change the World**

**By**

**Eric Clapton**

**X~~~*~~~X**

**::: OP Sequence :::**

WWE Tour Bus traveling desert road in Arizona. Camera zooms in, through window.

Scene trails the interior, displaying the stars of the show. As this happens, the atmosphere outside the windows transitions between several live images of different places/locations in the world (Italy, France, London, Japan, China, etc.).

Character introduction segments:

**_Matthew_ (Matthew Cardona/Zack Ryder) being lectured by _André_ (OC character). André departs to check on the newlyweds (Theodore and Natalie Neidhart-Wilson).**

**_Theodore_ accepts a bottled water from his wife, _Natalie._ André arrives and begins counseling them, to maintain cooperation in their (new and fresh) marriage. They accept their advice, and Natalie gives André a pinch on his cheek, making him blush. Theodore slaps André five, displaying their (future) close friendship.**

**_Layla_ (Layla El) arrives and begins spreading rumors, much to André's disapproval. Everyone on the bus ogles her with amusement, and shakes their head – before laughing. Layla joins the laughter, ashamed of her gossipy character. Matthew approaches Layla and consoles her, showing brotherly concern.**

**_Paul_ (Paul Levesque/Triple H) calls André cover to get an opinion about an article in the latest edition of WWE Magazine. André arrives and marvels at the level of obscenity in the photography displayed in a magazine that's _supposed_ to be for general audiences. They look at each other ... and shake their heads in disgust.**

**_Celeste_ (Celeste Bonin/Kaitlyn) passes by them, jamming on her headphones and licking on a lollipop. Paul and André (amusedly) watch her, humored by her random character. Celeste takes notice, stops, swings her hair and giggles, before jamming to the other side of the bus. Celeste takes a seat behind the bus driver, _Stephen_ (Stephen Farrelly/Sheamus), and strikes up a conversation with _Charmaine_ (OC character).**

**Sitting opposite of them is _Stuart_ (Stuart Bennett/Wade Barrett) who is a bit annoyed by their unruly and girly conversation. André arrives and prevents him from snapping, patting him on his "tender spot" behind his left ear, which makes him giggle. He receives a scolding that makes everyone laugh afterwards.**

Several other names are mentioned, including several recurring characters in the series. The tour bus arrives to its destination – the _**Crowne Plaza Hotel Medical Center**_ in **_Houston, Texas_**. Everyone grabs their bags, aborts the bus, and heads out to prepare for the day ahead. André holds the door open for his clients/friends, and enters after them. He stops at the door, holds it open, waves and winks, and then steps inside, letting the door close behind him.

**::: End of Sequence :::**

* * *

_**~ Episode 1.1 : Houston Tour ~**_

* * *

**Okay. Hope you guys are interested so far :). Keep reading. It's going to get zany in no time LMAO XD!**


	2. World Tour 1: Houston, Act 1

**(~~~ * _Act I_ * ~~~)**

* * *

**Scene I**

**Scene**

Backstage at the Reliant Arena in Houston, Texas. Extras tending to backstage setup, getting things ready for tonight's live performance. Black leather couch stage right. Coffee table set before couch. Stage equipment and traditional WWE framework. Entrances on each side of the stage.

**X~~~*~~~X**

It's June 1st, a fated and sunny day. The Reliant Arena is cool and breezy, just like always. Backstage crew tending to things, getting the area ready for the live taping of RAW. The usual – hustle, prep and SHOWTIME!

Paul enters from the offices (stage left), reviewing some documents. Script changes. Character development. Possibilities for impromptu segments. Several things he reviews (however) are rather unsettling.

"Oh boy ...," he worries.

Matthew enters (stage right) with wholesome attitude, "Hey! Boss Man!"

"... Hi," Paul indirectly replies, his eyes fixed on his documents.

"What's the deal?," Matthew has a seat on the couch.

"... Have you reviewed the script lately?"

"No. Why?"

"They're repeating the 'from brunette to blonde' skit all over again. I told Dad (Vincent) several times, 'Dad, not everyone can have hair as thin as a sheet of paper with split ends' ... You should see the pile of receipts I have – About 10, 000 slips that says: 'Bleach, $2.95'. Maybe that explains why a few of the DIVAS have been complaining about hair loss ..."

"Try buying mounds of gel to keep _this_ intact," Matthew mentions his spiky hair.

Paul observes Matthew's hair with sarcastic expression, "... Yes. I guess that would put a pretty little number on your tab."

"But, really. Boss Man, you _never_ act like this ... Is something wrong?"

"A fight with the Missus. Nothing major."

"Nothing major? You and Stephanie are like Mary and Joseph – except you had three babies, not one. And there was whole lot of ..."

"Matthew!," Paul ceases with elevated tone. "Put a cork in it."

"... Yeah, that."

Paul rolls his eyes, "Gees ..."

"But seriously, we're friends," Matthew refocuses the subject. "What's going on at home?"

"... She disagrees with how things are going here. I agree with her 100%, but she didn't have to ... ..."

"Have to what?"

"She used my credit cards for a shopping spree and placed us behind on our budget," Paul drops his documents on the table.

Matthew nods his head in an attempt to sympathize. "Oh," he rethinks the situation. "But, um ... Doesn't she _always_ do that?"

"She bought three Chevys."

"Ouch!," Matthew cringes. "Those things are ... expensive."

"Yeah, and it doesn't help when your wife has more masculine tastes than you. Imagine: Coming home after working out and seeing your wife sitting on the couch, drinking beer and holding her crotch yelling, 'What's for dinner, sugar buns?'"

"... ... Has Steph ever thought about taking estrogen pills?," Matthew wonders.

"She does."

"Oh, really? How often?"

"Everytime she sips on Rum and Coke," Paul lounges and crosses his legs.

Matthew takes a moment to contemplate Paul's marital problems ... ... And realizes that is another (deep) conversation in itself. Instead, he decides to save this topic for later and address a problem of his own.

Matthew scoots forward and relaxes himself, "I ... need to talk to you about something."

Paul arches his eyebrow, "What?"

"... About my push ..."

Paul sits up and speaks professionally, "Oh. That. I've spoken with a few of the big people, and ..."

"Yeah?"

"... they're giving me the same answer: 'Well, not right now'. I try discussing it in meetings. Debating. Protesting, but ... McMahon _outshines_ Levesque. My name is only on the Board because I married the boss's daughter."

Matthew lowers his head, realizing that his inquiry has gone nowhere. "Matt, I have two options left," Paul presents, earning Matthew's undivided attention. "Either set you up with an international promotion that could use you much better than we ever could, or ... Or hire a manager for you that will help build your career. Boost it. Sort of like a life coach."

"Life coach?," Matthew wonders.

"Well, see, this is the thing: the Board thinks you lack the 'drive' to actually make it to the bigger leagues."

"Drive?!," Matthew outrages. "Are they seriously saying that?!"

Paul notices the backstage crew ogling their conversation. "I _yelled_ the same thing, but ...," he hints. "... keep it down. There are eyes everywhere. And _mouths_ _willing_ to snitch on us for a pay increase."

"Whatever, man," Matthew lowers his head with dejection.

"I feel the same way you do. And to be honest, I don't want to see you leave. None of us do, especially your friends. I say take the offer – it'll help you climb to the top. You could be big like Cena. Orton. Jericho. Even our Legends. Your name could – no, your name WILL be the biggest asset to the WWE Hall of Fame if you would just take this offer."

"... Yeah, but for what? Being a loser? An untalented competitor without any 'drive'?"

"Matt, please," Paul pleads.

For several years, Paul has acted as a mentor and a friend to Matthew. In several private conversations, Paul vowed to "always be there" for Matthew, no matter what roads they took in life. No matter the odds.

This offer is a doorway of opportunity ... ... What would his decision be in the end?

* * *

**Scene II**

**Scene**

The next day. After making his decision and informing his boss (Paul), Matthew is instructed to meet his "new partner" at a local restaurant; a semi-formal meeting/introduction. Judging from the scene – a Highway (pun for Subway) on the outskirts of Downtown Houston – Matthew chose the latter option: to work under a life coach/manager. Tables extended from center state to stage left. Serving line and workers stage right. Entrance and windows in background. Extras in the background – some conversing and dining, others working and earning a (part-time) living. Matthew has a seat at a table center stage, and looks through the menu. Before his rendezvous arrives, he wants to make his selection.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"Okay, let's see ...," Matthew reads the menu, his actions more bizarre by the second. "... Freeway Cuts and a Roadkill Salad ... ... Philly Cheese Snake Sub? That'll Be $5, Bud Sandwich? ... ... Ensure Love and Lose Weight Sundae?"

Matthew eyes the audience in confusion, "What kind of restaurant is this?"

Suddenly, Natalie (Natalya) and Celeste (Kaitlyn) enter from the doorway in the background, dressed in workout clothes. Both sweating from a great workout at the local Bold's Gym (pun for Gold's Gym). Celeste is the first to take a seat, more tired than the hyperactive Natalie – who is bouncing merrily.

"AH-HA! I had so much fun at the gym!," Natalie giggles.

Celeste shoots Natalie a glare, "... I nearly _died_ thanks to you."

"Oh? What did I do?"

"You turned the Step Blaster on high, talking about 'Feel the burn!,' before the machine malfunctioned and shut down on me."

"Malfunctioned?"

"Natty! Since when do machines have 'DANG! SLOW DOWN!' on the screen in discombobulated digital letters?"

Natalie nods in an attempt to understand. "Oh, I see ...," she reflects on her actions and giggles. "... I'm sorry. AH-HA!"

Celeste trails away in annoyance, "Oh geez ..."

Natalie sits down with Celeste, (merrily) reflecting on their eventful day. "Ah! The life of a DIVA," she giggles. "Work. More work. Travelling. Connections and relationships. A British Racing Green Puma with a note out the whistler ... I love this job!"

"Are you optimistic about everything?," Celeste wonders.

"No ..."

"Then why are you riding on rainbows about a car note?"

"... because I'm not the one paying the bill!," Natalie giggles, before changing her attitude. "So, how was I? Do I make a good Bella Twin? Or do I make a GREAT Bella Twin?"

"... Too good to be honest with you," Celeste admits. "But you forgot the nose lift. And the plastic chest. And the sour attitude. Other than that, you'd pass for one of those ... ... I don't know _what_ to call them, but you'd pass."

Natalie suddenly notices Matthew up ahead, "Hey. Is that Matt?"

"Don't bother him," Celeste advises.

"Why not?"

"He's having a meeting with a ...," Celeste waves Natalie in, and whispers. "... Get this: a life coach."

"A what?!," Natalie outrages, before Celeste shushes her.

"Keep it down."

"Sorry," Natalie composes herself. "A what?"

"A life coach. Paul hooked Matt up with some ... _person_ we don't know, but someone who can help him."

"Why would Matt need a life coach? He's one of the brightest guys we know."

"It's to help him with his career."

Natalie's expressions become grim with offense, "Help? They throw his career in the trashcan and they call _this_ 'help'? I'm sorry. But as much as I love Paul, this – It's an insult. I won't stand for this. I'm going over there."

Celeste stops Natalie before she can stand up, "No. Sit down. Do not interfere."

"Why not?," Natalie sits back down.

"Because I want this for him. Someone who can not only show him the ropes, but also help him get a 'good grip on them'. Everyone's already saying Matt's thinking about quitting the industry, and we all know how _hard_ it is contact him on his off-days. If Matt leaves ... Natalie. We may never hear from him again. When Matt feels down, it's hard to 'lift him back up'."

Natalie takes a second to contemplate the situation. "... ... Alright," she concedes, before setting a few ground rules. "But this _better_ work, or I'm 'putting my foot down'. I'm sick of the way those Corporate nimrods are treating good men like Matt, and ESPECIALLY women like us. If this doesn't work out, I'm giving about 15 people a 'personal makeover'."

Suddenly, a flamboyant fellow bursts through the front door, "HEY THERE! André Sinclair up in the Freeway! Now where's the handsome young fellow who's aching for some life training?"

Natalie and Celeste are shocked of all words. Matthew hides his face behind his menu and prays to God that the man at the door does not see him. Everyone else (the extras) whisper awkward words underneath their breath.

Natalie marvels with disgust, "Oh my ..."

"God!," Celeste pinches herself. "Ouch! No ... I'm not dreaming."

The flamboyant (and rather loud) André notices Matthew hiding behind his menu. "Ah! I think I know who _that_ is over there, trying to hide from me," André approaches and taps Matthew on the shoulder. "Come on, now. I don't bite."

Matthew whispers under his breath, "Paul! I'm going to kill you!"

"Huh?"

Matthew stands up and extends his hand with a big smile, "I mean – Hi!"

"Oh! Now no need for the formal handshake. Starting right now, we're buds. Ace booms. Or as you say, 'broskis'."

"... ... Okay," Matthew gulps.

Natalie's facial expressions scream with ferocity, her heel tapping roughly on the floor. "Natty ...," Celeste licks her teeth with rising anger. "... As much as we _both_ want to explode ..."

Natalie crosses her legs with rising fire, "... Uh-huh."

"... we have to stay put and support Matt from the background. This is _his_ time. Not ours."

"... ... Uh-huh."

* * *

**Scene III**

**Scene**

Continuation of the previous scene. Matthew has just met his life coach/partner, André Sinclair, whilst being (unknowingly) monitored by two of his female friends: Natalie and Celeste. André has a seat on the chair opposite of where Matt sat; the latter, on the other hand, takes his time having a seat, stalling out of a quieted aversion to kill time. André initiates the meeting with professional character.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"Now, Mr. Cardona ...," André adjusts his glasses.

Matthew holds up his hand and extends, "Please. Mr. Cardona is my dad."

"... _Mr. Cardona_," André reiterates, retaining a professional mindset. "We're doing business right now. No time for informalities and buddy-buddy talk. We'll catch up on that _afterwards_."

Matthew is slightly repulsed by André's character, "Alright. Whatever you say."

"Now, Mr. Cardona, my services come with ten rules," André retrieves a file from his briefcase, lays it on the table, opens it and explains its contents. "Lesson # 1: Learn when to be formal and when to be informal when addressing others."

Matthew is confused and a bit insulted, "... Um, say what now?"

"From what I've been told, Mr. Cardona, you have a hard time with this. You constantly treat your superiors as commoners and your peers as either – a) an eligible bachelorette/date, or b) the 'Broski of the Week' ... If not that, you're either trying to intervene in situations and/or problems that have _absolutely_ _nothing_ to do with you, ultimately _worsening_ the severity of the event."

"So what are you saying? That I should stop looking for my wife and being cool with all my friends?"

"I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying? Because, seriously, this is becoming a bit offensive."

Natalie grabs a paper towel dispenser to release some inner anger. "Natty ...," Celeste lightly scolds, grasping Natalie's attention with earnest dentiloquy. "... Put it back. The last thing I want is to get sued for property damages."

Natalie places the dispenser back on the table with suppressed ire, "... Uh-huh."

"Thank you!"

"... Uh-huh."

André adjusts his glasses with proud bearing. "Men especially have a hard time differentiating between formality and informality," he explains, earning Matthew's undivided attention. "As a man who has conquered such immaturities, I wish to pass on this knowledge to you, Mr. Cardona. It's not that I'm attempting to insult you. As a matter of fact, it's the complete opposite."

"Opposite, huh?," Matthew intrigues.

"Yes, Mr. Cardona ...," André removes his glasses and makes a confession. "I'm not only a business partner, a manger and a friend to you. I'm also a very big fan. To top things off, I have a 7-year-old stepdaughter that loves and adores you."

"A fan, eh? Figures."

André glares sternly, "Don't get cocky, spike-for-brains! I'm not doing this _because_ I'm a fan!"

"Oh, really? So you're actually being genuine about this?"

"Of course, Mr. Cardona. I'm doing this so you won't be out of a job and so _both of us_ can go to sleep tonight with clear consciences ... I've been unemployed before. It's not fun. It's depressing, discouraging and overflowing with grievances out the hooter."

"Yeah. I've been unemployed for two years ... You're right. It isn't fun."

"Then we're on the same page here?"

Matthew nods and smiles, "Yeah. We are."

"Good!," André excites. "Then you won't mind joining me for a little outing tonight?"

Matthew becomes skeptical, "Um ... outing?"

"Business is over."

"Already?"

"Yep! I figured you needed to get out and see the city. Since I've been living here for the past four years, I thought I would get you out and show you a few sights. We can call it ... 'A Broski Night'."

Matthew smiles for the first time in months. "Oh my god," Celeste marvels. "He's smiling?"

Natalie shows her approval with a nod, "Yep. I take it back – Paul is a genius!"

* * *

**Intermission ... ... ... ...**

* * *

**Okay :)! That's it for Act I. Now, we will move on to Act II ...**


	3. World Tour 1: Houston, Act 2

**(~~~ * Act II * ~~~)**

* * *

**Scene I**

**Scene**

An hour later. Paul is sitting in his private office reviewing the final pages of his documents. Couch, love seat and recliner lined across the background, stage right. Stand with lamp placed between the L-shaped couch, love seat and recliner setting. Posters outlining WrestleMania, the latest issues of WWE Magazine and other future events on walls. Desk and office chair center stage. Entrance stage left. Matthew enters with renewed and delighted character.

**X~~~ * ~~~X**

"Boss Man!," Matthew shuts the door with elated character, grasping Paul's attention. "You're a genius! The Broski you hired to have my back is the best! Woo! Woo! Woo!"

Paul beams a sarcastic grin, "... Uh-huh. He set a few ground rules, didn't he?"

"... ... Yep," Matthew gulped.

"You don't like where they're going, do you?"

"Well ... Yes and no."

"Have a seat. Let's talk about it."

"Alright," Matthew has a seat on the couch's far left pillow.

Paul marks his file with his pen and closes it. "He's a really professional guy, TOO professional," Matthew confesses. "I like his angle, but ... ... Paul, the guy's a square. An Urkle-with-attitude. I'm not used to working with people like that."

Paul nods with a discerning grin, "... He's a fan, huh?"

"Yeah, one of those," Matthew toils. "A fan ... He wants to take me out on the town tonight. I'm not too comfortable about this. I'm really skeptical – I mean ... What if he starts _using_ me?"

"I wouldn't approve a merger or _any_ sort of agreement with an unprofessional client. You should already know this: I _don't_ make bad business decisions. Now I agree, André is a bit ... _awkward_, but he's a great guy."

"I just don't want him cramping my style, that's all."

"What style?," Paul jokes, triggering a glare from Matthew. "I'm just kidding! Look. You'll have fun. Houston is a lovely place with lovely people, from all walks and views of life. André's the kind of guy _you_ _need_ _around_ in situations like this. So relax, enjoy the city and all its fruits, and have yourself a good time. And between you and me ..."

Paul waves Matthew in and whispers, "... Texan babes are the best! Love them!"

Celeste's (telltale) voice hums through the office door, "_Thank you_!"

Matthew and Paul ogle the door confusedly, overhearing argumentative mumbling. "Bonin and whoever else is out there," Paul speaks demandingly. "The jig is up. In my office. Pronto. As in 'right now'!"

Celeste opens the door with shameful character, Natalie and Layla following in her wake. "Natty, Cece, AND Layla?," Matthew marvels in disbelief. "I can understand the first two, but Layla, YOU?"

"I overheard them discussing your troubles and I couldn't help myself," Layla replies with apologetic character. "I'm sorry, Matt. But as much as I want to avoid getting dragged under, I'm not willing to shun a friend in need."

"Thanks. But could _somebody_ care to explain what's going on?"

Celeste steps forward and speaks for her party, "You see, um ... It's kind of a funny story."

"Uh-huh," Paul lounges and crosses his legs. "We're listening."

"Yep," Matthew does the same thing. "We're all ears."

"Natty and I were kind of at the Freeway where you met your life coach, and ..."

"You were there?," Matthew becomes anxious. "Oh boy ..."

"It's not a bad thing," Natalie consoles. "Granted the guy's a bit of a loon, but it's not a bad thing."

Layla steps forward and evens-out her party members' discombobulated confession, "What they're trying to say is: We support you in all your endeavors and, granted your partner is a bit ... _odd_, we know he's right for you."

Matthew sits up with amazed expression, "... You really think so?"

"Yes. I've actually worked with Mr. Sinclair before."

"Really? What's he like?"

"... Outspoken, vulgarly opinionated, loud and bossy. Sometimes a bit violent. Other than that, he's a peach."

"Violent?," Matthew worries.

"True story: A few years ago, when I was still climbing the ropes, he took me out to Turnip Garden and convinced a waitress to drink a milkshake brewed with expired half-and-half. He said it was 'either that or suffer the lawsuit of the century'."

"Did she drink it?"

"Yes, she did. Then she regurgitated thrice before reaching the kitchen."

"Yikes!," Matthew marvels. "Guy knows how to play his cards right. I _love_ that!"

Paul nods sarcastically at Matthew, "Still a square?"

"Nope," Matthew beams merrily at Paul, then stands up. "As a matter of fact, I think I have an outing to get prepared for."

The girls applaud. "Alright!," Paul excites. "Well, you kids go have fun. I have some things to take care of before tonight's show."

"You betcha, Boss Man!," Matthew approaches the door, steps through it and stops to say a few last words. "And, hey, if I have any leftovers ... I'll save you a slice, Broski! Woo, woo, woo! You know it!"

Matthew leaves, his character still lighting the room even in his absence. Paul then looks to Layla with curious eyes ... A skeptical fellow by nature, he decides to address one of his doubts.

"Layla ...," he initiates.

Layla stops and turns, as the other girls leave, "Yes?"

"... did Dré _really_ do that?"

"... Well, not entirely. I kind of twisted the truth a bit to ... _motivate_ our friend."

"You lied?," Paul outraged.

"No, I bent the truth. You see, Dré DID convince that waitress to drink the shake, but then she spat it up and the spewed contents ruined his designer shirt. He's good at convincing people to do things, but it sometimes backfires on him."

Paul suddenly develops an uneasy feeling, which Layla immediately notices. "Paul ...," the latter develops the same feeling. "... Um, I'm not a rocket scientist, but ... I think we might have made a little Corporate booboo."

Paul nods with unease, feigning laughter to conceal his fears, "Yep. Oh boy ... _This _will be something to tell the boys during pub night, right? Another one of those mess-up-and-learn type things, huh? Ha-ha-ha ... ha ..."

"This isn't funny, dear."

"Yeah, I know ...," Paul begins to cry. "I know. I know. I know!"

Layla walks to Paul's side and gives him a pat on the back. Shaking her head, realizing that she played a part in starting something that she probably won't be able to stop. The only thing she can do – what they both can do – is pray and hope things turn out well. It's either that ... Or show up and do something to correct the situation.

Suddenly, an idea comes to them. "Lay," Paul smiles cleverly. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Layla sports the same smile, "Yes, I AM. Care for a little outing with the girls, bud?"

"Been a while. Why not?"

"Bringing the Missus?"

"Are you kidding me? Anywhere there's beer, she's there."

"Sounds like a plan," Layla approaches the door. "See you after tonight's taping. We're going to fix this before it gets out of hand."

Paul waves as Layla's closes the door and leaves. "Alright," he picks up his cellphone and calls his wife, receiving an answer after a few short moments. "... ... Hey, honey! The girls just invited us out. Want to join?"

Stephanie enquires about the occasion, and Paul sneakily replies, "I'll fill you in on all the details when we get there. Leave the rugrats with Ma and Pa for the night. See you there, hun. Love you."

* * *

**Scene II**

**Scene**

The late-evening, after the RAW taping. The scene switches to Club 281 in Downtown Houston, one of the most "happening" spots to visit amid the city's nightlife. Dance floor in the backstage. Tables center stage. Entrance stage left. DJ and stereo equipment stage right. A bar just beyond the dance floor in the background. Music playing from speakers and stereo system inbuilt throughout the entire club. Extras: dancing on dance floor, drinking at the bar, the DJ, waiters and waitresses. Matthew and André enter from entrance (stage left) dressed in leisure outfits.

**X~~~ * ~~~X**

"Wow!," Matthew marvels. "This place is on fire, Broski!"

"Of course," André giggles. "I wouldn't invite _my_ _Broski_ to a place that isn't happenin'. Okay?!"

André enters the crowd with hype, "HEY! PARTY UP IN HERE!"

Matthew suddenly gets an unexpected guest: a beautiful female socialite. "Oh my god!," she excites. "You're one of those rasslers! What's your name? ... Back Slider?"

Matthew bites his anger and corrects, "It's 'Zack Ryder', ma'am."

"Oh! I could never remember names, since I go through so many in one night!," the socialite chortles, repulsing Matthew with a gap in between her teeth that reeks of malt liquor. "So you wanna dance, handsome? This is my first time outta Biloxi and I'm just itching for some socializing, especially with a big, _sexy_ man like you."

"Uh ...," Matthew works up an excuse. "... Not now. I need to meet with somebody."

"Okay!," the socialite waves to the departing Matthew. "Come back when you're done, Mack Biter!"

André emerges from the dance crowd and regroups with Matthew. "Hey!," the former greets, already having the time of his life. "I just ran into Janet Jackson on the dance floor ... Not the famous one, of course."

Matthew skips the formalities, "I know. But could we like stay together?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

Matthew points behind him, singling out his temporary female stalker, "Newsflash: I just ran into 'Attack of the Gapzilla Freak-a-leak from Biloxi'! THAT'S what wrong, Broski!"

André examines the lady in question, who waves and kisses at him. "Um, Sugar Bits!," he scolds. "Don't make me call Big Stanky! You know what happened the last time you went cruising without his permission – pimp slap?"

The (exposed) prostitute turns and sneaks away for her life. "André, I just ...," Matthew steps away, feeling uneasy. "... I like these kinds of places, but I can't take this. I'm already having a crappy year. I'll just go ..."

André grabs hold of Matthew's arm and stops him, "No. Stop. Come back here, Mr. Cardona."

"But I'm not feeling this place, Broski," Matthew whines.

"That's because you're thinking unprofessionally."

"Unprofessionally? What in God's name is 'professional' about a club with more hooters Lynn D. Stewart?"

"This is your test, Matt."

"What do you mean this is ...?," Matthew suddenly takes notice of André's statement. "You just called me 'Matt'."

"Yeah, that's right. I'm not speaking to you as a business partner, I'm speaking to you as a Broski."

"Why the sudden change?"

"... As I said earlier, this isn't about business. I called you 'Mr. Cardona' to keep you on your toes. Then I switched gears and called you 'Matt' just to see if you were either – a) listening to me, or b) letting your emotions drive your actions. This is a stratagem I exercised based on the files I received about your work behavior. The strategy is: Place both of us in the middle of a wild, uncontrollable atmosphere and see where our actions will take us. I will analyze the situation later and give you a progress report by tomorrow morning. It's a done deal; a sure-win plan ... And I have faith in your sense of judgment, Matt."

Matthew takes notice of André's sincerity, which tightens their relationship as (both) business partners and friends.

Suddenly, the prying Natalie, Celeste, Layla and Paul (minus Stephanie) enter the club donning informal party-wear. "Sorry the Missus couldn't make it," Layla apologizes to Paul, before attempting to understand the issue. "Now what was it again that she stayed behind for – something about 'spilling the beans'?"

"No, she stayed behind because," Paul holds his nose and impersonates his wife. "_She accidentally spilled milk on her favorite shirt and couldn't make it because she didn't have anything else to wear at the moment_."

"Wow! That was actually really good."

"When you're married for 10 years, you start noticing the small things."

Celeste notices André and Matthew seated at a table (center stage), "Look. There they are."

Natalie takes notice of André's attire with admiration. "Wow!," she marvels. "That André-guy really knows how to dress snazzy for a night out on the town. Guys, you think we should go say hi?"

"No, Natty."

Natalie bounces and whines, "Aww, Cece-HE-HE-HE! Why not?"

"We don't want them thinking we're spying on them."

Layla suddenly points out the obvious, "But we _are_ spying on them."

"No! We're _not_ _spying_; we're _investigating_."

Layla and Paul look at each other, and nod in agreement, "Spying."

Celeste notices André leaving to fetch a few drinks from the bar. "Looks like opportunity's knocking," she enthuses. "Well then, ladies. Gentleman. Let's move on in."

Matthew suddenly feels something approaching, turns around and notices his friends. "Boss Man, Girls!," he stands up and greets them with platonic love. "Fancy seeing you here! What brings you to Club 281?"

"Oh, just a night out," Paul replies, his party beaming a telltale smile.

"Just a night out, huh?"

"Yep. We wanted to see the city, and ..."

"You were spying on me, right?"

Paul and the Girls concede, "... Yeah."

"Guys, come on!," Matthew drones.

Celeste steps forward and nervously explains, "Well, you see, Layla kind of twisted the truth a bit, and ..."

"Twisted the truth?"

"... Yeah, about André."

"Okay. Somebody care to tell me the _actual_ truth this time?"

Matthew shoots Layla a stern glare. "Of course," she steps forward and nervously confesses. "Actually, that story about the waitress was half-delivered. You see, the waitress spewed once – as in on his designer shirt. André is good when it comes to making business decisions, but when it comes to some things he —"

André arrives with drinks in hand, and irately interjects, "He what?"

Layla pauses. Her party and Matthew face André, realizing that they're in trouble. André's expression is stagnant with anger and outrage ... It would appear that things have just gone from bad to worse.

* * *

**Scene III**

**Scene**

Continuation of the previous scene. Paul, Layla, Natalie and Celeste, all equally concerned about Matthew, intervened and followed him to Club 281 in Downtown Houston. Matthew's outing with André is at odds, due to the latter overhearing a stifled confession about André's (alleged) character. André places his drinks on the table, approaches his coworkers, halts, folds his arms and addresses the issue in a professional manner.

**X~~~ * ~~~X**

"Well?," André persists.

Matthew approaches André with earnest character, "Pay them no attention. This is about us, right?"

"Is it?"

"I ...," Matthew chokes on his words.

"Excuse me, Mr. Cardona," André walks past Matthew and confronts the spying quartet. "Ms. El. Mrs. Wilson. Ms. Bonin. Mr. Levesque. What are all of you doing here?"

Paul steps forward and explains, "We heard some things ..."

"About what?"

"It's idle gossip. We came here when we shouldn't have in the first place, and I apologize on behalf of my group."

André retains his composure and beams a suave smile. "Idle gossip, as you say, hasn't an inkling of an effect on me," he says in defense of his social upstanding. "Sure. I'm not perfect, but who is? And I already know about Ms. El's accusation because I was standing next to the door when she _whispered_ in a little cutesy shoo-shoo voice ..."

André impersonates Layla to a tee, "... _No_, _I bent the truth_. _You see_, _Dré DID convince that waitress to drink the shake_, _but then she spat it up and the spewed contents ruined his designer shirt_. _He's good at convincing people to do things_, _but it sometimes backfires on him_. _What's up_?! _This is Club MTV_. _I'm Downtown Julie Brown_, _wubba wubba wubba_."

Layla folds her arms with defense, "Hey! I never said that last part!"

"I know. I just added that one in."

"How rude! Of all the –"

Layla realizes the reason behind André's random verbal addition. "Kind of ticks you off, huh?," the latter enquires, earning an affirming nod from the former. "I hope you've learned from your mistake, as well as this impromptu lesson. I admit – I expected a little more from _all_ of you, but I wanted to mainly address the potty mouth. Ms. El ..."

"Yes?"

"... I forgive you. As much as it pains me to say this, I can overlook this fault. Also, Mr. Levesque ..."

"Yeah," Paul wonders.

"... Don't disbelieve or misjudge me based on my past mistakes. That was _years_ ago."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry about that. It was a huge mistake and –"

"And that's why I've decided to add you _all_ to my life-reformation program!," André enthuses.

Paul's party bellows, "What?!"

"Not _what_, buy why," André counts on his fingers. "Mrs. Wilson has a short temper and a compulsive order complex ..."

Natalie gasps with offense, "I do not!"

"... Ms. Bonin is an instigator; a habit that normally leads her and others into tight situations ..."

Celeste angrily denies, "Liar!"

"... Ms. El has a chronic fibbing problem that she has YET to conquer after five years ..."

Layla giggles nervously, "Ah-ha-ha-ha ... ha ..."

"... And, Mr. Levesque has marital problems and deteriorated confidence," André ends his analysis, and gives his word of approval. "You're all perfect candidates for my life-reformation program. Plus ... ... All of you owe us for tonight. This was a perfect opportunity for Mr. Cardona to show me any signs and/or forms of progression. You ruined it, for him and for me."

Paul rethought the offer/penalty with mature bearing. "André, buddy," he earnestly initiates. "Will this program _really_ help me and Stephanie with our marriage problems?"

"It will. No money down."

"Hey, none of that. I've been trying to get my marriage back to where it was for the past three years. I could use some help, and I know you're the guy who can make it happen ... If I see progression, I'll double – no, I'll _triple_ your pay."

Layla nods in agreement, "It wouldn't hurt. My flappy tongue could use a little reformation."

"Here-here," Celeste agrees. "I'll be fun. All of us, hanging out like before ..."

"... and, everyone reaps the benefits of their hard work and dedication," Natalie interjects, jumping on the bandwagon. "Great! I say we give this program thing a shot. So, Mr. Sinclair ..."

Natalie turns her attention to André, and shakes his hand, "... I am honored to be a member of your 5-star program."

"As am I," Layla repeats the gesture.

Celeste does the same, and so does Paul. "Well then ...," André shakes their hand individually, accepting them into his reformation program. "... Ladies. And Mr. Levesque. Welcome to the Sinclair 10-Step Life-Reformation Program!"

Matthew jumps with joy, before placing his arm around André's shoulder. "This is absolutely sweet, Broski!," the former rejoices, before adding a punch line. "You know what? I think this is the beginning ... of a BEAUTIFUL partnership."

Matthew then fist-pumps with enthusiasm, "Woo! Woo! Woo!"

Suddenly, Sugar Bits returns and taps Matthew on the shoulder, catching his attention. "Hey there, big sexy!," she waves sheepishly, inciting revulsion in Matthew's company. "When you gonna ask Sugar Bits to dance, huh? Huh, Track Glider?"

Matthew stutters, in an attempt to come up with an answer. "I, uh ... I, well ...," he turns and makes a break for it. "Gotta go!"

"Wait, Snack Biter!," Sugar Bits chases after Matthew. "I just wanna love you! I'll even give you a discount! Come back, big sexy!"

Paul and the girls ogle André, awaiting his decision. "Hold on, just a second ...," André draws his cellphone from his jacket, dials a number and awaits an answer. "... ... Yes, is Big Stanky there? Put him on the line – we have a Code Red: Sugar Bits on the Loose. I repeat. We have a Code Red: Sugar Bits on the Loose."

* * *

**As you can see, these episodes are two-act episodes, so they're not long. They flow by smoothly and keep things interesting :). Just like a sitcom should be, right? Anyway, on to my closing segment. I haven't worked on an OP for this show yet, so don't expect one as of right now. Just picture ... a cold opening :). Like a few shows of the early 90s. Okay. Give me just a second and I will have Zack's/Matt's lesson (moral).**


	4. A Lesson Learned with Matt (1)

**~ A Lesson Learned with Matt ~**

**Scene**

The later part of the evening, close to midnight. A hotel suite in the SBC Caliente (pun for MGM Elegante). Two unique Victorian-age pictures on peach walls; door to bathroom/shower stage left; queen-sized bed center stage; entrance stage left; dresser cornered between bathroom/shower door and entrance. Tan carpet floors. Peach-tile floors and white walls inside bathroom/shower. Window stage right. Nightstands on each side of bed; inactive lamp perched on each stand. Matthew asleep in bed, snoring. Alarm clock goes off. Matthew turns on lamps by clapping hands, rises and yawns. Notices audience.

**X~~~ * ~~~X**

Oh! Hey ~ ey ...! ... ... Phew! Excuse me.

Man! Talk about a long night, huh? A new manager that turns out to be an expert life coach. Boss Man and the Girls joining me in this life-reformation program ... Yep. Life is looking sweet! Woo! Woo! Woo!

... Though things could've been better without the fugly stalker from Biloxi ... ...

Anyway! It's exactly 3:25 AM and I have an hour and a half to get ready for a long, long, LONG flight to the Philippines. Yesterday marked the end of the first part of our North American tour, so now it's on to the other side of the world – where the broskis and ladies LOVE having us over! I tell you – it's going to be amazing!

... Just as long as I don't run into _another_ fugly stalker from ... ... anywhere ...

But you knows, guys, girls ... ... I learned something from _all the zaniness_: There's a time for leisure and a time for professionalism. André ... er ... kind of threw me off with the whole "taking me out to the club thing," but now that I think about it ... ... It was perfect! I was in the middle of a place where anything, everything and _some things_ could happen. Unpredictable. The type of atmosphere that keeps you on your toes. Despite the ... _strange_ _selection_, it worked miracles.

I now see life from a different angle ... ... And a gap with lettuce in it calling me "Big Sexy," and moronic variations of my stage name. And an ugly purple dress. And paper-thin orange hair. And a super huge mole above big Botox lips. And a – OH GOD! WOULD SOMEBODY GET THAT FUGLY, COUNTRY TROLL WOMAN OUT OF MY HEAD?!

... ... Simmer down. Simmer down ... ... Phew! Alright. I'm good ... ...

That gap – OH GEES!

Okay. I admit. I'm scarred for life ... You would be _too_, if you were stalked by a country troll!

Alright. Alright, enough joking around ... Besides, I'll be miles _and miles_ away from _Shake-a-Pits_; or _whatever_ her name was ... The Philippines will distance me FAR from that woman. REAL FAR ... ... Besides, I already have a girlfriend, and I don't plan on taking the "from whore to housewife" road. Trust me, broskis – it's not worth it. I've been down that road once before, and I'm never – E ~ VER! – doing that again! Not even if I'm drunk ... ...

OUCH! My head ... ... Looks like I have a hangover.

(Sugar Bits rises from under the comforters on the right side of Matthew's bed, and scares the living daylights out of him!)

AAAHHH ~ !

"Hey, Big Sexy! You awake already? Come on! Give Sugar Bits a little more of _YO_ sugar!"

OH, GOD, HELP ME ~ !

(Matthew rises from bed and runs out the room. Sugar Bits chases after him, bouncing merrily.)

"Come back, Smack Wider! Sugar Bits just wanna love you! I take PayPal! I'll even give you 50% off!"

GET AWAY ~ ! André, help me ~ !

* * *

**And ... ... That's all for now :)! So, everyone. Tell me what you think. Should I continue this or not? This is just a pilot episodes, after all, so it may or may not be much yet. But I promise you, in the days to come, it could get pretty ... nutty LMAO XD! Until next time, this is Dion Mystique. Love you all. Kisses!**

**~ Dion Mystique, Author**


	5. Totally Flawless with Layla (1) & OP 1

**Hey there, guys and girls! It's me, Dion Mystique, with another episode of World Tour! YAY! I just finished the second episode. This one is focused on our favorite flawless DIVA, Layla El. I'll just shut up and let you guys read. Hope everyone enjoys it :).**

**~ Dion Mystique, Author**

* * *

**~ Totally Flawless with Layla ~**

**Scene**

Shopping strip in Mandaue City, Philippines. Layla enters a Macy's department store and browses the merchandise. Clerk's desk center stage; women's clothes and footwear stage left; men's clothes and footwear stage right; glass door entrance (backstage/background). Extras – customers and personnel – tending to daily routines; some leisure, some professional. Marble tile floors; white walls with poster and banner décor; some displays here and there. Layla finds a pair of shoes that she's going gaga over! She then notices the audience and has a seat on a neighboring chair.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Hey there, loves! Come. Take a load off ...

So, tell me, what do you think of this place? ... Isn't it just fabulous?

Okay. I know it's a Macy's, but don't you just LOVE these nifty little kickers?

As you can see, I'm a fashion-nut. Guilty as charged! ... I've always been a fashionable girl, and that is why I am – FLAWLESS! Oh, but enough about my vanities. Here's what I heard:

_Get this. I heard that Nikki Bella ... is wearing a push-up bra! But don't let anyone know I told you that. Okay?_

Yeah. I know. I have a runny mouth, and that is _exactly_ why I am a long-term member of André's life-reformation program ... I just can't seem to keep my choppers from chopping. I often confide in my soul-brother Stuart, though he often glares at me and tells me that "_I have a big nose and a wide forehead_" ... ... But _that's_ Stuart for you. Charming fellow he is.

To be honest with you all, I ... ... I am a lonely girl.

I've surrounded myself with WONDERFUL friends; very sweet, always delivers well they do ... But I'm starting to realize that my maternal clock is _ticking_. A few more years, and – TA-DA! – Ms. Lay will be the big 4-0.

I ... ... I want a family. I want a husband, children, a cute little home with a white picket fence, and an English Bulldog named Muffin with a slight tick. But I just ... ... I just don't see that happening in my future.

Perhaps that is why I'm _always_ in everyone else's business ... Because _my_ business is just ... ... It's uninteresting.

Totally ... not flawless ... ...

But! The sky is looking blue today, so I've arranged a little outing with the girls ... ... And André.

Why not? He IS married to a man, after all. He also gives _great_ advice, and he's a keen fellow; always on the ball that one. He says that he's honored to receive an invitation and is delighted to join us ... ... Though I highly doubt he'll spare us his ear-shattering lectures. I tell you, that one needs more counseling than we do.

I swear. That man and his nattering is ... ... Well needed.

You know what? I'm going to see if these shoes fit me. You lot should go get prepared for the outing ... ...

Oh! You didn't think you were invited? How could you?! ... It's not a day without my loves, now is it?

No, go. Go. Get fancied up and posh for me. The girls and I will be waiting ... ... And André.

Oh, and before you go, just between us:

_We're going to **Snook's Seafood and Grill**. Don't wear heels – I hear the floors are stickier than my pa's old gym socks. Rumor has it: One time, a woman left her purse lying on the ground for two seconds. And wouldn't know it, she couldn't pick the bloody thing off the floor again! It was glued to the floor it was. I mean, seriously! Have those people ever heard of Pine Sol? Or bleach for that matter? ... Word of advice: Flats are the way to go. But don't let anyone know I told you that. Okay?_

Oops! Bad habit ... ... I better go purchase these shoes. They fit me. Best in the store! Ha-ha-ha ... ha! ... ... Yeah.

See you lot later! Triple kisses, loves – muah, muah, muah! Bye-bye.

* * *

**Opening Theme:**

**Change the World**

**By**

**Eric Clapton**

**X~~~*~~~X**

**::: OP Sequence :::**

WWE Tour Bus traveling desert road in Arizona. Camera zooms in, through window.

Scene trails the interior, displaying the stars of the show. As this happens, the atmosphere outside the windows transitions between several live images of different places/locations in the world (Italy, France, London, Japan, China, etc.).

Character introduction segments:

**_Matthew_ (Matthew Cardona/Zack Ryder) being lectured by _André_ (OC character). André departs to check on the newlyweds (Theodore and Natalie Neidhart-Wilson).**

**_Theodore_ accepts a bottled water from his wife, _Natalie._ André arrives and begins counseling them, to maintain cooperation in their (new and fresh) marriage. They accept their advice, and Natalie gives André a pinch on his cheek, making him blush. Theodore slaps André five, displaying their (future) close friendship.**

**_Layla_ (Layla El) arrives and begins spreading rumors, much to André's disapproval. Everyone on the bus ogles her with amusement, and shakes their head – before laughing. Layla joins the laughter, ashamed of her gossipy character. Matthew approaches Layla and consoles her, showing brotherly concern.**

**_Paul_ (Paul Levesque/Triple H) calls André cover to get an opinion about an article in the latest edition of WWE Magazine. André arrives and marvels at the level of obscenity in the photography displayed in a magazine that's _supposed_ to be for general audiences. They look at each other ... and shake their heads in disgust.**

**_Celeste_ (Celeste Bonin/Kaitlyn) passes by them, jamming on her headphones and licking on a lollipop. Paul and André (amusedly) watch her, humored by her random character. Celeste takes notice, stops, swings her hair and giggles, before jamming to the other side of the bus. Celeste takes a seat behind the bus driver, _Stephen_ (Stephen Farrelly/Sheamus), and strikes up a conversation with _Charmaine_ (OC character).**

**Sitting opposite of them is _Stuart_ (Stuart Bennett/Wade Barrett) who is a bit annoyed by their unruly and girly conversation. André arrives and prevents him from snapping, patting him on his "tender spot" behind his left ear, which makes him giggle. He receives a scolding that makes everyone laugh afterwards.**

Several other names are mentioned, including several recurring characters in the series. The tour bus arrives to its destination – the **_Dohera Hotel_** in **_Mandaue City_**. Everyone grabs their bags, aborts the bus, and heads out to prepare for the day ahead. André holds the door open for his clients/friends, and enters after them. He stops at the door, holds it open, waves and winks, and then steps inside, letting the door close behind him.

**::: End of Sequence :::**

* * *

**~ Episode 1.2 : Philippines Tour ~**

* * *

**On to Act I ...**


	6. World Tour 2: Philippines, Act 1

**(~~~ * Act I * ~~~)**

* * *

**Scene I**

**Scene**

The early afternoon, a suite at the Dohera Hotel in Mandaue City. Scene is inside Room 34921 (Layla's suite): same as Matthew's scene from end of Episode 1.1. Only the walls are more pink than tan. The tiles in the bathroom aren't blue, but a mixture of Mexicano red and white. The carpet is the same tan matting, but the window has pink curtains instead of an ordinary tan coloring. An elderly maid enters the suite, tending to her duties.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"Clean-ting, clean-ting, clean-ting!," the maid sings, whilst proceeding with her duties. "I am clean-ting, clean-ting, clean-ting! Ms. Masha clean-ting, clean-ting, clean-ting the sweeps room!"

The elderly maid, **_Ms. Masha_**, suddenly notices something strange on the bed, "Oh! Uh-oh ..."

She picks a brown string of hair from the comforter. "Oh ...!," Ms. Masha cringes with disgust. "These young gulls and their weevils ... ... Oh! She not even use the shampoo!"

Layla enters her suite, inciting fear in Ms. Masha.

"Oh!," Ms. Masha turns around with a can of spray in her hand. "Freeze! I have the Wick!"

Ms. Masha then beams merrily, "It is Springtime Rose, you know."

Layla earnestly apologizes, "I am so, so sorry. I did not mean to frighten you, Miss ..."

"Masha. Masha Bukasha Lalasha Branasha Shasasha Arellano. But everyone calls me Ms. Masha."

"... Okay," Layla trails away with marvel.

Ms. Masha shows Layla the string of hair she found, "Look. I find this on bed."

Layla gasps and feels her head.

"Oh ...," Ms. Masha looks on.

"Oh indeed, Ms. Masha," Layla panics. "I SO hope I am not losing hair at this age ..."

"Oh, no, no, no," Ms. Masha feels Layla's hair and makes an estimation. "You will not lose hair ... You will grow new hair and, eventually ... It will turn grey. But that will not be for another 20 to 25 years."

Layla marveled, "Wow! How did you know that?"

"Ms. Masha have several jobs."

"Several, do you? So besides a maid, what else are you?"

"Beauty parlor, travel agent, psychiatrist, lawyer, firewoman, professional boxer, craftswoman, policewoman, activist ..."

Layla is awed by how many jobs Ms. Masha has.

"... pizza delivery girl, exotic dancer, rapper, gynecologist ...," Ms. Masha leans in and whispers. "_I hear the Bella Twins have the yeast infection_. _I research and find out many, many things_."

Ms. Masha then beams merrily, "It is very bad, you know."

Layla is silenced by how odd (yet cute) Ms. Masha is.

"... I just came to change my shoes," Layla giggles to hide how awkward she feels.

"Oh! You bring shoes in bag, yes?," Ms. Masha notices.

"Yes! Found them at ..."

"Let me guess," Ms. Masha interjects. "Macy's, correct?"

"... No, of course not. Why would I ... ... shop there?"

Ms. Masha lightly peels the emblem off Layla's shopping bag, revealing it to be a bag from the local Macy's department store. Layla turns away, embarrassment seeping from her every gesture.

"You use sticker to cover emblem on shopping bag," Ms. Masha beams. "It is very obvious, you know."

"... Right ... Obvious. What was I thinking, huh?"

"No, no, no. You not think."

Layla put her hands on her hips with offense, "Excuse me ...?"

"Only numbskull would put sticker on shopping bag, especially on one side and one side _only_."

"Ack! How rude! I have a reputation to –"

"Uphold? Pft! Please. TMZ puts all of that to the bed."

Layla follows Ms. Masha to the window, wanting some answers, "TMZ? I have you know that I never –"

"You never slept around ...," Ms. Masha begins counting on her fingers. "... Never married. Never had the breast surgery. Never lie ... ... Oh, wait. You do lie. Many, many times Ms. Ebb."

"... It's El. Layla El."

"M, N, O, P ... ... It is all the same to Ms. Masha."

"Ms. Masha, you ...!"

Layla composes herself and extends a polite request, "... I think you should leave."

"Oh! No, no, no, no ..."

"Yes, yes, yes," Layla begins assisting the maid to the door.

Ms. Masha runs into the restroom, closes and locks the door, "No, no, no!"

"Ms. Masha! What are you doing ...? Get out of there!"

"No, no, no!"

"Now! Or I will call security!"

"No, no, no!"

Layla approaches and bangs on the bathroom door. "No, no, no!," Ms. Masha argues like a little child. "Ms. Masha no leave when job no done! No, no, no, no, no ...!"

Layla bangs, "Open up!"

"No!"

"Open up!"

"No, no, no!"

The debate goes on and on, leading to absolutely nowhere ... ...

Boy! What a way to begin your day, right?

* * *

**Scene II**

**Scene**

The mid-afternoon, at Snook's Seafood and Grill. Small assortment of dinner tables encompassing center stage. Entrance and reservation desk stage left. Kitchen stage right. Glass doors separating a secondary part of the restaurant in background. Entrance to restrooms stage right. Wooden tile floors. Classical maroon drapery and embellishments. Extras (customers and staff) tending to daily duties and/or leisure (dining experience). Layla, Natalie, Celeste and André enters through entrance (stage left), surprised by how packed the restaurant is.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"Looks like this place is booming," Celeste observes with annoyance. "... Yay. Big whoop."

Natalie attempts to pep Celeste up, "Cece! Come on. Big smiles?"

"... No," Celeste growls.

Natalie cringes with fright, "Eep! Okay. Don't bite my head off, gees."

André gathers the girls' energies with a little pep. "Okay now, girls," he cups his hands together, earning their attention. "I want you to understand that this is also another portion of our program."

"Another one ...?," Natalie drones.

"Yes! Another one. And for good reason, might I add."

Layla interjects with a hint of curiosity, "Um, André, don't get me wrong here ... But what does dining at a Filipino seafood restaurant have to do with a ten-step reformation program?"

"Ah, ah, ah," André shakes his forefinger at the girls. "Remember. There's a time for business and a time for leisure."

Layla nods her head sarcastically, "Oh ... Yes ... Right ..."

"But seriously," Celeste enquires of André. "What does this have to do with the program?"

"Yeah, fill us in," Natalie persists with a hyper giggle. "AH-HA!"

André rubs his irritated ears, and smiles to feign his true sentiments.

"... Sorry," Natalie apologizes. "Had a pair of lungs on me since I was a kid."

André nods and smiles, "... I see that."

"So! What's the deal, guru man?," Natalie enthuses.

"This scenario ties in with Lesson # 2: Always balance your discretions and indiscretions."

"Um ... We're just eating seafood."

"Yes. And you're also going to be putting up with a _special guest_ of mine."

"Guest?"

"What guest?," Layla wonders.

Celeste suddenly sees a disturbing site exiting the restrooms, "Oh. My. God. Not now ..."

André and the other girls face the restroom, and notice who's made Celeste uneasy.

The girls cringe. André excites.

"**_Stephen_**!," André runs up to his coworker and friend.

André's _special guest_ receives a big hug. "_Ey_ _there_, _fella_!," Stephen beams. "How ya been, huh?"

"Been okay, big guy! It's so good to see you. And how are you?"

"Couldn't complain," Stephen notices the girls, and opens his arms with wholesome characters. "It's me Sheilas!"

The girls nervously giggle, "... ... Hi."

"Don't act like that. Come over here and give a fella a hug!"

Great. Just what the girls need ... An eccentric and overbearingly hyperactive Irishman.

How do you think this is going to turn out, fella?

* * *

**Scene III**

**Scene**

Continuation of previous scene. The girls get an unsettling surprise when they are introduced to André's "special guest": Stephen Farrelly (aka Sheamus), their eccentric and hyperactive Irish coworker. Having arrived early as requested by André, Stephen already has their table picked out. Despite the sudden random development, this is a chance for the girls to exercise balancing discretion with indiscretion.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Stephen shows his party to their table, "C'mon. This way, Sheilas. _And_ me fave little fella."

André blushes and lightly punches Stephen on his arm. "I can't believe this," Natalie cringes, speaking to Celeste and Layla using dentiloquy. "Why is he here? Why now of all times?"

"I don't know," Celeste responds using the same method.

Layla attempts to strike up a conversation with Stephen, "So, Stephe ..."

"What's up, Lay?"

"... How's, um ...," Layla struggles. "... the, um, leg? I heard you just got back from the hospital."

"Ah. Yeah. That. Had a fractured chickenwing and a cleft shoulder, but ya paddy never gives up."

"You don't say?"

"Aye. That and the tuna sandwich I had the other day gave me the bubbles."

The girls cringe ... André giggles and flips his dreads behind his ear.

"Now what did I tell you about eating those tuna sandwiches?," André lightly scolds.

Stephen cuts a rough fart, alerting everyone in a 15-foot radius ...!

The girls cringe harder than ever before. People near enough to smell Stephen's flatulence lose their appetites, some even leaving their tables. Asking for checks in an attempt to escape the funk.

"Yep, that one was from last night," Stephen smiles.

Celeste arches her eyebrow with disgust, "Um ... Manners, much?"

"Manners? The last time I spoke to Manners, he was dry like an empty coke bottle in summer."

"... Eww."

"Ey! It's all in fun, Sheilas."

The girls shoot André a fierce glare, "... ... We're going to get you."

André giggles merrily.

"I'm so sure," he flips his dreads to the other side. "Ha!"

* * *

**Intermission ... ... ... ...**

* * *

**Getting interesting, yet? Hope so. Now, on we go to Act II ...**


	7. World Tour 2: Philippines, Act 2

**(~~~ * Act II * ~~~)**

* * *

**Scene I**

**Scene**

Continuation from previous act. Stephen has just embarrassed the girls, but André seems totally fine with things thus far. After a hardcore fart that cleared a 15-foot radius of Snook's Seafood and Grill, what other catastrophes are up Stephen's sleeve? ... I dread to find out.

**X~~~*~~~X**

A gum-chewing waitress with strips in her hair arrives, tablet in hand.

"Welcome to Snook's," the waitress grimly greets. "My name is **_Uvula_**. I'll be your waitress today. Yadda, yadda, yadda ... Name your poisonous, cholesterol-filled order."

The grim Uvula readies her pen, and awaits her customers' order ... ...

After a few seconds of silence, Uvula notices that everyone's ogling her with confused expressions.

"What?"

"Um ...," Layla initiates with polite character. "... I don't mean to sound rude, but aren't you being a bit, I don't know, unfriendly and a bit depressing?"

"I'm not depressed. I'm high."

"Oh ... ... Okay then."

"Alright, alright. Clock's ticking, toots. What're ya buying?"

Natalie suddenly recognizes Uvula's dialect, "Are you from uptown Brooklyn?"

"Sorry, ma'am. That ain't on the menu."

"Um ... I wasn't making an order."

"Glass of water ...," Uvula records with a short temper.

"Ack!," Natalie folds her arms with offense.

Uvula moves on to Celeste, "And what will you be having, toots?"

"I'm not your toots."

"It's either toots or turds. And since you're yapping, what're ya buying, _turds_?"

Everyone is dumbfounded by how ... _insufferable_ Uvula's personality is.

Celeste attempts to speak in her defense. "Glass of water ...," Uvula interrupts, recording and moving on to Layla. "And what will you be having, clips?"

"Um ... Clips? What are you talking about?"

"Those exposed tracks in your hair. Looks like your cranium's running for soccer ball of the year."

"Soccer ball?," Layla outrages.

Uvula interjects with a smile, "Yes, a soccer ball."

"You little –!"

"Glass of water ...," Uvula records and moves on to André. "And what about you, dreads?"

"I'll have the # 4 Special with a glass of Diet Coke."

"Okay ...," Uvula records.

The girls suddenly notice a change of character in their waitress.

Uvula moves on to Stephen, "And what about you, milk?"

"The Butterfly Shrimp meal. Be a doll and hold the tartar, upsize me glass, and make the chips fat like me mum's cankles ... Extra salt on them chips, by the way. Do this for me and we're on the same page, Sheila."

The girls are shocked speechless by Stephen's ordering etiquette.

Celeste whispers to Layla, "What is this, the Snackin' Shack?"

"More like the ghetto Red Lobster," Layla whispers back. "But don't tell anyone I told you that. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Uvula shoots Layla and Celeste a fierce glare, having overheard them. "I'll give the three puffers a # 2 special on the house," the foremost ignores, showing a cordial side. "I'll right back with your orders. Until then, boys, keep your _dogs_ on a leash. The boss has a fear of _hungry Rottweilers with too much makeup_."

The girls flip with outrage, as Uvula departs to prepare the party's orders.

André and Stephen are appalled by their server's behavior, but choose to remain calm about it. If they subjugate themselves to anger, they won't be in any condition to console let alone calm _anyone_ down.

* * *

**Scene II**

**Scene**

Continuation from previous scene. The party's server of the day, the grim and loose-tongued Uvula, has left a raging mark on the girls. Apparently from a (hidden) sense of jealousy towards other women. André and Stephen must now console three inflamed female wrestlers ... ... Not fun. Trust me.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Celeste explodes in a wave of anger, "No that little backwater emo wench did NOT just insult us like that?!"

"I say we have a few words with her boss!," Layla proposes, before turning her attention to André. "Was this all part of your plan, or did this just turn up out of nowhere? Another glitch in the cards?"

André smiles, cups his hands and swings his hair to the left, "Ha! I have no idea what you're talking about."

"And just _why on earth_ are you acting like that?"

"I'm balancing discretion with indiscretion. The freedom to make wise decisions and unwise decisions."

"Why exercise wisdom at a time like this?"

"Because if you don't, you'll wind up causing things to spiral out of hand. Look at it this way – you either start something or end it right then and there. Fight and act a fool, or bury the hatchet ... Or you could always take the alternate approach."

Natalie wonders, "Alternate approach?"

"I don't think we're following you here," Celeste seconds.

Stephen intervenes, sporting his Irish charms.

"Look at it this way, Sheilas. You got a rowdy-mouthed rag on your hands, right? Obviously holding some kind of grudge against other women, why, we don't know. Now what you want to do is this ..."

The girls intrigue, as Stephen leans in and delivers a punch line.

"... Stick it to the rag."

The girls arch their eyebrows with confusion, "... Huh?"

"Stick it to her. Wait for the right opportunity, counter her little muggy one-liners and put her in her place. Afterwards, bury the hatchet and be on your merry way. Nothing to it, Sheilas."

"Nice one, Stephe," André complements.

Layla then notices Uvula returning, and preps everyone, "Brace yourselves. Here she comes."

Uvula returns with the party's drinks. "Alright, here you go," she places her tray on a neighboring table, and issues out the party's drinks. "One Diet Coke ... ... One Sprite ... ... And three Dog Waters ..."

The girls retain their composure, not succumbing to Uvula's verbal insults.

"... Grub should be ready now," Uvula grabs her tray and excuses herself. "Be right back. Keep those dogs on a leash."

"Woof, woof," Natalie giggles. "AH-HA!"

As soon as Uvula's out of the picture, Natalie heats up and expresses herself.

"I'm going to RIP HER A NEW ONE!"

She then composes herself and smiles, "With words!"

"Stand in line," Layla seconds.

Celeste snaps her fingers in a diamond-formation, "Ver – bal – beat – down!"

André furthers his lecture with words of wisdom. "Now remember, girls," he says, leaning on the table. "When you verbally confront someone, _never_ resort to idle threats. And if you must do so, lean towards the judicial side. NOT the domestic."

"WHY? She didn't have a problem –"

"Insulting you? Of course she didn't. Most people compensate for life failures by insulting others."

Stephen wittily relates, "Or they just do it because they don't give a –"

"Stephe! Language, please?"

"Alright, don't have a bird," Stephen backs off.

Layla properly declares, "Well. Reflexive or not, we have _a_ _little number_ for her if she shoots another insult."

Uvula arrives on cue, toting the party's tray of orders. The girls compose themselves, beaming (apparent) fake smiles that accentuate their jawlines and gloss their eyes ... ...

André and Stephen gaze upon their lady-friends with expressions exuding feelings of awkwardness.

Uvula then begins issuing out the party's orders. "Alright, here we go," she says, as she circles the table. "One # 4 Codfish Platter ... One # 3 Butterfly Shrimp Platter, minus the tartar ... And three ..."

Uvula lightly slams the girls' plates before them, "... Number! 2! CATFISH Specials with bones! LOTS of them!"

The rude waitress then steps aside, the awkward silence building by the second ... ...

It's written all over their faces – Layla, Celeste and Natalie are P.I.S.S.E.D!

Since their arrival, Uvula has insulted them on more than one account. There's some apparent friction between them, and the mystery eats away at the girls by the second ... Layla is the first to address the issue.

"Uvula, if I may call you that ..."

"What's eating you, turd?"

"... Why are you being so rude to us?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's bad customer service, that's why."

Uvula laughs, "Bad customer service? Turd, you're funny."

"My name is Layla, not turd," Layla smiles. "And not dog, either."

Celeste cleverly adds with a smile, "And doesn't see have the nerve to call someone out of their name?"

"Yes, and especially when she's named after_ a fleshy appendage that hangs from the back of a person's palate_. Clever little title. I wonder how many bottles of rum it took to come up with _that_ one."

André turns to hide his amusement. Stephen's face turns red from stifling his laughter.

Uvula folds her arms in offense, "Um! Excuse me?!"

"Oh! I'm sorry," Layla giggles. "Was I being rude to you?"

Natalie smiles at Uvula, "Sure sucks when the shoe's on the other foot, huh?"

The begrudged and angered waitress glares at Natalie.

"... I didn't ask for your opinion."

"It's not an opinion, girlfriend. It's an enquiry. You see, my party tolerated your insults until now because we're professionals, but it's become apparent that you're bent on making a fool out of us. Now why that is, we don't know and we'd like some answers. Otherwise, we're going to have to speak with your manager. Possibly have your job."

"Speaking," Uvula smiles.

Celeste cringes with abhorrence, "You? YOU'RE the manager?"

"Been the manager for two years now. Don't take anything I say seriously. I'm tired, annoyed, stressed out, and all the women I've encountered have done nothing but ruin my marriage."

André and Stephen nod to each other, both seeing acts of progression from the girls.

"Sit down, girl," Celeste pulls up a chair. "You need this talk. Pronto."

"Fine," Uvula has a seat.

"So tell us everything. We'd like to hear it."

"... Really?"

"REAL women lookout for each other."

Natalie points out, "Sounds like you've come across nothing but a bunch of vultures."

"I think _harpies_ is a much more proper term," Layla lightly corrects.

Uvula begins seeing the good in the girls, and decides to open up.

"Thanks. I normally don't get that."

André smiles upon the waitress's true nature. "All my life, I've been tormented by others girls," Uvula continues. "It's not easy to show respect to creatures that make your life a living hell ... Sorry if I've been a little witch."

"Ms. Uvula, word of advice," André initiates a listen-and-learn. "You give people power over you and they'll use it. Abuse it. Then discard it, wanting a formal renewal of that power – as in _you_ succumbing to their mistreatment."

"... Yeah. I've been told that many times."

"Did you listen?"

"... Um, well ..."

"That was a rhetorical question, Sheila," Stephen intervenes, grasping Uvula's attention. "It don't take a paddy years to figure out if someone's feeling a little cold towards their peers. You've been hurt. Heck, we all have – every man, woman, child and beast has suffered at the hands of another ... You have _every_ _right_ to lash out."

"... I do?"

"Heck yeah, Sheila."

"Oh. Then you won't mind me saying that you look like a carton of spoiled milk with a period stain in it?"

Stephen stifles a brash response, realizing that Uvula's speaking out of anger. André decides to intervene.

"... That must be for your husband, huh?"

Uvula trails away, shame on her face, "... Yeah. I guess it is."

"Mr. Farrelly is not your husband ... These women sitting next to you are not the women who ruined your marriage. Your husband shouldn't have been munching on burgers when he had steak at home. And I'll tell you this – If you make other people suffer for your tragedies, you're no better than those little floozies _or_ your fast little number of a husband."

Uvula begins to shed tears ... She turns away.

"Do not turn away from us, Ms. Uvula," André motivates.

"... Why not?"

"Now's your chance, that's why."

"Chance for what? To be hurt again?"

"No ... Your chance to actually speak and acquaint yourself with people who want to _help_ you."

"How can you help me? Hell. How can you be nice to someone who –"

"Why not?," André interjected, playing one of Uvula's cards.

The rudeness somehow slips away, as if it were a ghost that haunted her ... Uvula is finally able to be herself with someone. Not paint a tough and arrogant façade, in hopes of retaining power over her peers.

Celeste offers her plate, "I'm on a diet. I was going to ask for a salad. You want it?"

"I, um," Uvula blushes. "Thanks. But I better go prepare your salad."

"I'll keep it warm for you."

"... You guys are really nice."

Natalie smiles and giggles, "That's how we REAL girls are. AH-HA!"

"Minus the loud and raspy laughter, of course," Layla trails away with embarrassment.

Uvula laughs. The girls then begin fellowshipping with her, discovering common ground. Getting to know each other ... André and Stephen look on, impressed with the current developments.

"So Stephen, what do you think?," André enquires of his friend. "A job well done?"

Stephen pats André on the back with a wholesome smile, "You betcha, fella."

* * *

**Scene III**

**Scene**

An evening at the Aboitiz Sports Field, inside the DIVAS locker room. Same setup as the first locker room scene, without extras as all DIVAS are prepared for the evening. (This is a _sitcom_, PEOPLE. Not porn. So suck it up. No T & A for you.) The color scheme has been altered to better suit the womanly atmosphere: hues of pink and silver, and hues of black (reminiscent of the DIVAS championship belt, plus I love the colors). The girls enter stage left from their segment as a (fictional or otherwise potential) stable, The Belladonnas. Celeste and Natalie just finished a huge battle against the Bella Twins, which didn't end in their victory ... Another Creative Writing travesty.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"How many times do we have to lose to a pair of glossed-up twigs?," Celeste complains, hopping to a seat on the bench.

She has a seat, her back muscles aching from being slammed through a table, "Ouch! Pain! Hurts like hell!"

Natalie holds her head, having had her hair pulled. "I don't know about you girls," she has a seat next to Celeste, feeling a slight pain as she descends. "... Ouch! But I can't take it anymore. I mean, seriously? The Bella Twins? Creative Writing acts like girls like us have lost our potential. Instead of giving EVERYONE a time to shine, they decided to glorify the 'my ribcage brings all the boys to the yard' and the 'my plastic is popping, is popping' mini-skank types ... You'd think we were full-timing for Hugh Hefner. Or heck, showcasing for Bob Guccione."

"That's cutting is too lightly. How about selling-out for Hustler?"

".. Yeah. That sounds a lot better."

Layla laughs at the girls' outrageous view of the DIVAS division.

Celeste snarls at Layla, "And just what are you laughing at, Tinker Bell?"

"Are you kidding me? It's funny."

"Says who?," Natalie and Celeste begrudgingly harmonize.

"Says all the women who've worked their way from the bottom to the top. Yes, don't sellout, but _don't_ give up. I mean honestly here, girls ... Most women wish they could actually make it here."

Natalie and Celeste sighs, realizing the truth behind Layla's words.

"Ring a bell, dears?," Layla enquires.

"Yeah, about 13 years of bells," Natalie replies, her headache subsiding.

Celeste stretches her back, popping her pain out. _CRACK_!

"Ouch!," she hisses. "That's about almost a decade of body slams."

Suddenly, Ms. Masha exits the DIVAS shower room with a cart of cleaning supplies. "No, no, no ...," she denies, slightly startling the girls. "... That is actually years of bodybuilding, years of hard labor, and years of the mat-hitting with body."

She then beams merrily, "It's very bad, you know."

"Ms. Masha?!," Layla exclaims with awe. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"This is one of many jobs for Ms. Masha. I clean stadium. That includes ..."

Ms. Masha leans in and whispers, "... the putting up with the stinky undies. It's very smelly, you know."

Celeste and Natalie look at Layla with curious eyes. "Oh, I almost forgot ...," Layla introduces. "... Girls. This is Ms. Masha. You know, the woman I had to practically FIGHT to get out of my hotel room this morning."

Natalie laughs, "This cute little elderly woman? Are you serious?"

"She looks like my old next door neighbor's grandma," Celeste coos. "She's just so innocent and sweet looking."

Ms. Masha beams merrily, "I'm very sweet, you know."

Layla snarls at Ms. Masha for putting up an act.

"... Don't you even much try to play innocent."

"Whatever could you mean, Ms. Ebb?," Ms. Masha beams.

"That's Ms. EL. And I would appreciate it if you'd stop putting up a front."

"Oh! I sense the animosity ... I may need to call the Dr. Phil."

"No manner of counseling will bail you out of jail for harassment!"

Ms. Masha jumps with fright, "Oh! Ms. Masha make a break for it!"

Natalie rises and consoles Ms. Masha. "She _scares_ me!," the latter shakes, inciting concern in everyone but Layla. "It is like the Godzilla and I am the little people of Hung Kung."

"That's Hong Kong. And enough with the theatrics, you zany old woman!"

Ms. Masha feigns a heart attack, "Oy! My heart!"

"Seriously?!"

"Lay, please," Celeste mediates.

Natalie shakes her forefinger at Layla, "Remember. _Always_ balance tolerance and intolerance?"

Layla folds her arms with disdain. It takes her a moment, but she eventually sees the sweet nature of Ms. Masha.

"... Well. I guess she isn't all that bad. Girls _do_ get curious and love being _well_ informed ... Even if their knowledge is untrue, and their so-called sources can't hold water. But I digress."

Ms. Masha beams merrily, "Just like your receding hairline?"

Celeste and Natalie step back, knowing one should NEVER talk about Layla's hair.

"Old girl, you better run," Celeste whispers to Ms. Masha.

Natalie seconds, "Like right now."

Layla's eyes burn, her head inflates and becomes frightening (i.e. The Omen)! Ms. Masha gulps ...

Layla explodes with deafening ire, "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, YOU OLD CRONE?!"

"But it is very true, you know," Ms. Masha beams.

"ASS WHIP!"

Ms. Masha runs out the DIVAS locker room in fright, "Oh! No, no, no, no, no, no!"

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE MOTORMOUTHED BACTERIUM!," Layla chases after her like a vengeful ghost. "I'M ABOUT TO THROW MAMA FROM THE TRAIN!"

"No, no, no, no, no!"

"HALT IN THE NAME OF ASS WHIP!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Natalie is flabbergasted, but Celeste rolls in laughter.

Natalie trails towards Celeste with appalled mien, "Cece. WHY are you laughing?"

"... ... How can I not? I've _never_ seen a head THAT big! AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA ...!"

Layla appears in the doorframe like a deranged maniac, "WHAT?!"

Suddenly, André's voice reverberates from down the hallway, "LAYLA EL! GIRL! TELL ME YOU DID **NOT** STUFF THIS SWEET OLD LADY INSIDE THE TRASHCAN?!"

Layla's raging high suddenly lessens to an innocent low.

"... It was an accident?," she calls back to André.

"ACCIDENT MY LEFT FOOT! AN HOUR IN THE ANGRY CORNER TOMORROW! I AM NOT ABOUT TO DEAL WITH LAWSUITS BECAUSE OF YOUR SHORT TEMPER!"

"Oh. Sorry?"

"Y'ALL GET DRESSED AND BRING YA SNAPPY LITTLE BUTTS ON! AND DON'T **_MAKE_** ME GET THE TONIC!"

Layla rushes into the shower, prompting the girls, "Be alive, girls."

"Why rush for a little guy like that?," Natalie snickers.

Layla pokes her head out of the shower, and fearfully replies, "Because the last time I had a similar situation, he mixed nail polish thinner with my shampoo. I was stuck looking like Sinéad O'Conner for _two month_! Now are you ready to deal with something like that or are you going to PUT A STEP ON IT?"

Celeste and Natalie nervously ogle each other, "... Step on it."

The girls rush into the showers, in fear of losing their (prized) locks.

* * *

**All finished with the body of the episode! YAY! Now, we move on to the Lesson Learned with Layla. Enjoy ...**


	8. A Lesson Learned with Layla (1)

_**~ A Lesson Learned with Layla ~**_

**Scene**

The later part of the evening, close to midnight. Aboard a plane headed for Tokyo, Japan. Layla and a few of her friends (/coworkers) are preparing to rest up for the night. Enclosed white aircraft walls with windows, stage left and right. Tan carpet floors. Three unisex toilet rooms, backstage. Extras and a few supporting characters (assorted). Some flight attendants, some WWE personnel. Layla is busy writing in a diary she made on her iPad. She notices the audience and strikes up a little monologue.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Well. Hello there!

Fancy meeting you all again, here aboard our lovely little company airplane ... ... You know something. I learned a lot today. Tons about what it means to be either discreet or indiscreet.

It's not always fun for people when others spread rumors. Or call others out of their name. Or even harass others with nasty little tidbits about other peoples' private lives, which are absolutely ... ... Sorry. I'm still hung up about that insufferable Ms. Masha woman! I mean seriously, of all the nerve! Spreading hogwash about me to my friends ... ...

Although stuffing her in a trashcan wasn't a good idea. Though it felt good ... REALLY good.

(The extras ogle her with shamed expression.)

What? It did.

(The extras turn away and continue their conversations and/or nightly routines.)

Anyway, André and Stephen were dolls. Very helpful they were ... Though the latter could've saved the fierce poot that practically cleared half of Snook's in a little less than 3 minutes ... ...

Despite that little mishap, it's good to have friends who care. I know André is tough and brutally straightforward, but he means well with what he does ... I'm proud to say that I wouldn't have come as far as I have without him ... ... Yes. He had to punish me a few times ... Okay, a LOT of times ... But his actions were always acceptable.

Okay. I'm lying ... Not ALL of his actions are acceptable.

(André scolds from background: "Go to bed, Lay!")

... Not to mention that he's bossier than a wolverine in heat. But I digress.

But on to a better note – We'll be touring Tokyo! I am so, so, so, SO excited! The sites. The culture. The people. The delicious food. The adorable children ... ... Yes. I just LOVE touring the Orient.

By the way. Nice to have you joining us, loves. It's sure to be a totally FLAWLESS experience.

(A huge, dry fart from the middlemost toilet lights up the entire airplane. Stephen pardons himself: "Sorry, everybody. Must be the shrimps. And don't worry, I plan on spraying.")

... ... Eww. Where's an open window when you need one?

Ack! I swear ... The people I know. Amazing!

(The extras harmonize with disgust: "Yeah. Tell me about it.")

No, no, no. Not this time ... ... I've said enough. I'll try to keep other peoples' name out of my mouth.

That's the way to be, right? You have to give respect to get respect.

Now then, dears. I'm going to call it a night. I do hope you enjoy our Tokyo tour. Until we meet again: stay flawless!

Goodnight.

* * *

**And that's it for episode 2 :)! Hope you all enjoyed the contents. Comment and follow, and I will deliver. It all depends on whether or not you want more. Okay? Until next time, peace, love and kisses :).**

**~ Dion Mystique, Author**


	9. Guy Talk with Paul (1) & OP 1

**Hello there, everyone. It's me, Dion Mystique, back with another episode of World Tour. This time, we're focusing on a certain COO and his marriage. Hope you enjoy the contents. Love you all :)**

**~ Dion Mystique, Author**

* * *

**~ Guy Talk with Paul ~**

**Scene**

Early morning at Keiko's Eatery, where international dishes are served. Entrance afore small descending staircase stage left. Glazed wooden floors. Sorted white tile-top tables encompassing center stage. Large, oval-shaped window in background outlooking Tokyo City. Bar afore windows, perched on higher flooring. Door to kitchen at the far right of aforesaid description. Doors to restroom stage right. Telephone cornered between kitchen entrance and women's restroom. Extras – some tending to daily routine, others leisure (dining experience). Paul sits alone at a table center stage, amid a small assortment of customers. He notices the audience and strikes up a monologue.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Ah. Hello there. Fancy seeing you guys here.

As they say in these parts, "Tōkyō e yōkoso!"

... ... That means "Welcome to Tokyo," for those who're still guessing.

Well. To start things off, I wanted everyone to know that my wife has placed someone in my hands. A "charismatic, enthusiastic and cultured woman," so says the Missus.

Yeah. I don't like the sound of that.

You see, humans are equivalent on so many levels, especially when it comes to character. The more charismatic and enthusiastic, the worst. The less, the better. The phrase "more is less" works well in these situations.

So already, I don't like this ... To top things off, I'm dealing with a woman. And my wife KNOWS how much I can't STAND catering to DIVAS, especially ones with _this_ kind of résumé.

Listen to this ...

(Paul reads from his client's portfolio.)

_Name: Charmaine Quinnette Larkin_

_Age_:_ None of yo' d*** business_

_Height_:_ You can see me, can't you_?

_Gender_:_ Um, are you blind_?

_Credentials: I got da hookup!_

_References_: _Didn't I just tell you to mind yo' own business_?! _D***_!

(Paul closes the portfolio and exhales heavily, showing signs of frustration. He rubs his temples to relieve some stress.)

I don't know whether to reject this or call 1-866-99MAURY.

I've asked a few of my partners and even they reject the idea. But I'm a man who's open to exception, so I decided to reconsider this over a nice, warm breakfast.

(A waitress arrives with breakfast and a bottle of gin.)

And gin ... ... LOTS of gin.

(Paul pours a glass.)

Because if I don't ...

(Paul stops and places his bottle down.)

... My wife will be all over my case. Not because I'm being stubborn, but because "You let all your friends join the company, but not any of mine?! HOW DARE YOU!"

(Paul takes a gulp from his bottle. Swallows, exhales and burps. Puts bottle back down.)

That was goo-hoo-hood!

No it wasn't. That's the gin talking.

Anyway, as I was saying ... ... The accusation that I hire "my friends" is false. My wife and many others use that defense against their enemies to secure positions for loved ones and/or close associates. They're usually the ones who hire _deficit dummies_ instead of _moneymakers_, which leads to financial troubles.

My take on this: If you're not good and you can't accept our terms, you're not getting in. I don't care about your "hookups" or any other claims you have. If you can't cut it ... Beat it. Point blank.

To be honest with you, none of my workers are technically "my friends," they're my business partners. Backstage is professional, onstage is professional. Other things dealing with these people are leisure, but you won't catch me hounding them like SOME people do. And the only time I call my associates "friends" is on my off-days.

Balance professionalism with leisure. Exercise discretion and indiscretion. Two key lessons we've learned thus far ... ... Though I wasn't around for the second one, since I'm already well-versed in that.

That and I didn't want to smell 15-meters of Irish bum gas.

(Paul looks at his food and loses his appetite.)

... ... Eww.

(He pushes his plate away, having developed a disturbing mental image.)

Anyway ... ...

(He pushes the plate one more inch, proving his level of disgust.)

I'll be working with André, the wife AND this Charmaine woman. First, a group meeting. Then a live performance against one of our _fiercest_ female competitors. Followed by a follow-up examination.

We're going to see how much of a "hookup" this Charmaine woman has.

And for her sake, it better be _pretty d*** good_.

* * *

**Opening Theme:**

**Change the World**

**By**

**Eric Clapton**

******X~~~*~~~X**

**::: OP Sequence :::**

WWE Tour Bus traveling desert road in Arizona. Camera zooms in, through window.

Scene trails the interior, displaying the stars of the show. As this happens, the atmosphere outside the windows transitions between several live images of different places/locations in the world (Italy, France, London, Japan, China, etc.).

Character introduction segments:

Matthew (Matthew Cardona/Zack Ryder) being lectured by André (OC character). André departs to check on the newlyweds (Theodore and Natalie Neidhart-Wilson).

Theodore accepts a bottled water from his wife, Natalie. André arrives and begins counseling them, to maintain cooperation in their (new and fresh) marriage. They accept their advice, and Natalie gives André a pinch on his cheek, making him blush. Theodore slaps André five, displaying their (future) close friendship.

Layla (Layla El) arrives and begins spreading rumors, much to André's disapproval. Everyone on the bus ogles her with amusement, and shakes their head – before laughing. Layla joins the laughter, ashamed of her gossipy character. Matthew approaches Layla and consoles her, showing brotherly concern.

Paul (Paul Levesque/Triple H) calls André cover to get an opinion about an article in the latest edition of WWE Magazine. André arrives and marvels at the level of obscenity in the photography displayed in a magazine that's _supposed_ to be for general audiences. They look at each other ... and shake their heads in disgust.

Celeste (Celeste Bonin/Kaitlyn) passes by them, jamming on her headphones and licking on a lollipop. Paul and André (amusedly)watch her, humored by her random character. Celeste takes notice, stops, swings her hair and giggles, before jamming to the other side of the bus. Celeste takes a seat behind the bus driver, Stephen (Stephen Farrelly/Sheamus), and strikes up a conversation with Charmaine (OC character).

Sitting opposite of them is Stuart (Stuart Bennett/Wade Barrett) who is a bit annoyed by their unruly and girly conversation. André arrives and prevents him from snapping, patting him on his "tender spot" behind his left ear, which makes him giggle. He receives a scolding that makes everyone laugh afterwards.

Several other names are mentioned, including several recurring characters in the series. The tour bus arrives to its destination – the **_Keio Plaza_** in **_Tokyo, Japan_**. Everyone grabs their bags, aborts the bus, and heads out to prepare for the day ahead. André holds the door open for his clients/friends, and enters after them. He stops at the door, holds it open, waves and winks, and then steps inside, letting the door close behind him.

**::: End of Sequence :::**

* * *

**~ Episode 1.3 : Tokyo Tour ~**

* * *

**On to Act I ... ...**


	10. World Tour 3: Tokyo, Act 1

**(~~~ * Act I * ~~~)**

* * *

**Scene I**

**Scene**

Backstage in the (fictional) Tokyo Stadium Yanagiba Toshiro Conference Room. Blue carpeted floors. White walls with clear windows, outlooking Tokyo City in background. Glazed brown-wood conference table placed center stage. Entrance stage right. Framed banners outlining (random) events that will take place in Tokyo Stadium in the next 12 months. Paul, Stephanie and André sit at the conference table; the foremost has doubts about the meeting.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Paul sits at the conference table, his wife Stephanie and friend André at his side.

He sighs heavily, stress weighing down on him.

"What's wrong, big guy?," André wonders.

"... I'm not so sure about this Charmaine girl, that's all."

Stephanie folds her arms with offense, "Why not?"

"Because her résumé says quite a lot, honey."

"What's wrong with it?"

Paul shoots his wife a gaze of annoyance.

"What?"

"Steph," Paul pauses sarcastically. "Would you hire someone whose résumé gratifies common stereotypes?"

"... If it pays well, yeah."

André and Paul palm their heads, and Stephanie laughs.

"Relax, relax," she smiles. "I wouldn't recommend someone who would jeopardize my family's legacy."

Paul peeps at his wife through his fingers, "... Then why go through all this trouble for a Shanaynay clone?"

"Because you shouldn't because judge a book by its cover. Doing so would be a direct violation of our company's policies pertaining to impartiality, and I am not willing to –"

The door is kicked open, the boom startling the trio!

"_Make way_! _Make way_! _Make way_!"

An over-glamorized, over-accessorized, hyper-permed, poorly dressed, bubble gum popping woman steps in. The woman poses in the door frame with an excess of attitude. Paul and André are speechless. Unlike Stephanie, who's ecstatic.

"Ms. Charmaine IS ... in this piece!," the woman enters, kicking the door to a close on her way in.

Stephanie rises and gives Charmaine a hug, "Char! You look fabulous!"

"Oh, thank you, oh!," Charmaine giggles and waves.

Stephanie laughs, before showing her interviewee to her partners. Paul and André are still speechless. Motionless. Reactionless. Their faces like disgruntled power sockets.

"Paul, André," Stephanie introduces. "This is Charmaine Larkin. Charmaine, you know husband ..."

Charmaine extends her hand, "Mm-hm. I sure DO know him, _Mr_. _Serious Aspirin_ himself."

Paul blinks with a mixture of confusion and offense ... ...

He rises and shakes Charmaine's hand, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Larkin."

"Call me Char."

"No," Paul has a seat.

Charmaine puts her hands on her hips with offense. "And this is our partner, André Sinclair," Stephanie continues to avoid any confrontation. "He's here for observational purposes."

"Mm-hmm ...," Charmaine rolls her eyes and extends her hand to André.

André stands and shakes her hand, "A pleasure. Nice to have you here."

"... Mm-hmm."

Everyone has a seat, commencing the meeting.

"So, Charmaine ...," Paul initiates.

"What?"

"... Tell us why you're here today," Paul smiles, his annoyance apparent.

"Oh. Yeah. Right. Well, um ..."

Charmaine pops her teeth, a small hint of spit hitting André's left eyelash!

André closes his eye and wipes the dribble from his lash, easily attracting Paul's attention. As well as the latter's aversion of his interviewee ... ... Charmaine continues by delivering a punch line.

"... I got the hookup."

Charmaine double-snaps her fingers in a circle, "Boom! Baby!"

An awkward moment of silence follows thereafter ... Paul and André gawk at Stephanie, wondering if she's lost her mind.

Stephanie giggles like an innocent child. "What can I say?," she smiles, before repeating Charmaine's gesture. "Boom! Baby!"

Paul trails away with embarrassment, "Oh boy ..."

"... this is going to be a LONG day," André interjects, feeling the same as Paul.

* * *

**Scene II**

**Scene**

Continuation from previous scene. Paul and André have been introduced to Charmaine Larkin, a stereotypical African American hood girl aiming to join the WWE. Claiming she "got the hookup". Stephanie, her devoted friend, is attempting to convince André and her husband to sign Charmaine up. Unfortunately, Charmaine is leaving a lasting impression on Paul and André ... ... And it's not a good one.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"So, so, so, so, SO!," Charmaine smacks the conference table, but hurts her hand in the process. "... Ouch!"

Paul and André look on with disapproval.

Stephanie consoles her friend, "Awww, girl. Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I broke a nail ...!," Charmaine whines like a child.

André and Paul look off, unable to believe how _unfit_ Charmaine is for the job. Stephanie notices their expressions.

"Boys!," she sternly initiates.

Paul and André look at her. "Is there a problem?," Stephanie continues. "If so, we should address it."

André sarcastically trails away, "Oh, trust me. Even if you DID put an _address_ on it, the problem would still be there."

"But bathing could eliminate _the nature-scented P.O. Box_ _odor_," Paul adds with a smile.

Stephanie glares at her husband.

"Sorry ... ...," Paul trails away at a loss of power.

"Anyway!," Stephanie turns her attention to Charmaine with a smile. "Char, tell us about this 'hookup'."

Charmaine pops her teeth again. Another hint of dribble lands on André's eyelash.

"Yes," André wipes his eyelash, his voice drowned with aversion. "_Tell_ _us_. _About_! _Your hookup_ ... ..."

Charmaine smiles and finally explains, "Well! If you must know, I know somebody that said you were looking for pure, unadulterated and natural talent. A REAL lady that knows how to throw down on them hands. So I figured, 'Hey. I've got what it takes.' As a professional fighter myself, I'm more than sure I can stand up to ANY challenge."

"So what type of training do you have?," Paul enquires.

"None."

"So what makes you think you have what it takes?"

"Simple. I may not know all those grapples. But trust me, I d*** sure know CUH-RAY-ZAY!"

Charmaine stands and begins swinging her hands like a maniac, "BREAK 'EM! SHMEE-SHMUMBLY!"

She then sits down in a split second, before crossing her legs and popping her bubble gum.

Paul records in his notes, "Inexperienced ..."

"... but a potential great competitor that's ...," Stephanie adds with a smile.

"... out of her tree," Paul concludes, beaming a sarcastic smile at Charmaine.

Charmaine places her hands on her hips, offended, "Um! Are you saying Ms. Charmaine doesn't have what it takes?!"

"No, I'm not saying that."

"Then what ARE you saying, Mr. Surreal A-zappin?!"

"The moniker is CEREBRAL ASSASSIN, Ms. Larkin. And unless you're willing to undergo a training program, we have nothing more to discuss. Your credentials are for the birds. Your references are nonexistent, save my wife ..."

Paul ogles his wife with disbelief, "... who has really surprised me today, a lot more than usual."

Charmaine trails away with offense.

"Don't turn away from me. Ms. Larkin," Paul exercises his authority, earning a hint of Charmaine's respect. "We need an answer and we need an answer now. The only way you're getting in is if you're signed under a developmental contract, not just for directive purposes, but also to prepare you for the bigger and tougher opponents."

Charmaine rolls her eyes.

André adds, exercising a hint of his frustration, "And please, don't roll your eyes. It's not becoming and does little justice for your unsatisfactory first impression."

"I have a right to feel, don't I?," Charmaine bucks.

"Naturally. But that should also include a level of integrity, as you having more concern about your physical well-being. This isn't a cakewalk, Ms. Larkin. If you go out there unprepared, trust me ... Our hard-working female competitors will show you no mercy, let alone your _precious_ little fingernails."

Charmaine folds her arms and trails away with offense.

"What's it going to be, Ms. Larkin?," Paul persists, displaying strong business etiquette. "To join or not to join? That is the question ... So what's your answer, or does THAT come with 'the hookup' too?"

Awkward silence comes thereafter ... ...

When dealing with a proud person like Charmaine, it's best to present an alternative. This places them in a state where they have to choose. And if they choose to renege the terms, then they lack the integrity to make a choice. It's either that, or they believe they're THAT important to where such terms are beneath them.

A test of character is set before Charmaine. What will be her decision?

* * *

**Scene III**

**Scene**

Tokyo Stadium Arena. Bleachers in background, stage left and stage right. Large four-sided ring encompassing center stage. Extras and a few minor characters surrounding the ring. Entrance front-stage, unseen, hinting that there are bleachers and an entrance in the foreground. Standing in the ring are two guest stars, (former Womens' Champions and DIVAS) Trish Status and Lita, who have been selected to act as Charmaine's trainers. Charmaine is chaperoned to the ring by Stephanie, Paul and André – the latter two more unbelieving than the former.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Charmaine notices a ring surrounded by professionals, as well as two legends standing therein. Immediately, she excites realizing her interviewers are pulling out ALL the stops just for her.

"Okay, Char," Stephanie encourages. "Remember. These women are here to help you."

Charmaine pops her teeth with pride, "Mm-hmm. Nothing to it."

Paul winks at Trish and Lita. They wink back, confirming that a _scheme_ is in the works.

Charmaine enters the ring ... ... And stands before her trainers with confidence.

"Mm-hmm," she pops her teeth with pride. "So, um. What you two washed up has-beens gone teach me?"

Trish giggles merrily, "... Oh! How to beg for mercy, THAT'S what!"

Lita pounds her right fist into her left palm, and cracks her knuckles!

Charmaine gulps, realizing she's just stepped into hell on earth!

Paul, Stephanie and André take a seat on the bleachers (stage left). "Alright, ladies," the foremost initiates. "Begin!"

Charmaine backs away, squirming for her life, "No! No-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!"

"Yes!," Trish and Lita go on the attack.

Charmaine screams bloody murder, "NO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO ...!"

**(* * *)**

After five minutes' training, Charmaine is ALREADY down for the count!

André laughs like a sinister little imp, "HER! Heh-heh-her-heh-heh-HER!"

Paul and Stephanie ogle him with confusion.

He notices their expressions, and shrugs his shoulders, "What? I'm enjoying myself."

"But you don't have to sound like a deranged masochist," Stephanie sarcastically comments.

"Girl, let's be honest here. Don't you think she _deserves_ this whooping?"

"No, not really."

Paul interjects, disagreeing with his wife's opinion, "Yes she does, Honey."

Stephanie shoots Paul a sharp glare.

"That's not going to work this time, Steph. Charmaine's bad for business and the only reason I'm going along with this ..."

Paul slaps André five and lounges, "... is payback!"

Stephanie folds her arms at her husband with offense. "Paul!," she outrages. "How could you ...?"

"It's my next lesson," André interjects, grasping Stephanie's attention.

"Next LESSON?"

"Yes. Minus the spit."

Stephanie glares at André, making the latter giggle innocently. "You see, Mrs. Levesque," André continues, adjusting his glasses and displaying professionalism. "This isn't really about payback. Your husband was just exercising a hint of what I discussed with him on the phone before our initial meeting with Ms. Larkin."

"Which is ...?," Stephanie snarls.

"Lesson # 3: _Communication is the key_."

Stephanie tilts her head with confusion, "Huh?"

"You two don't communicate well enough, which is why you have _Ms. Pop-Lock-and-Drop-It_ in the ring getting her butt handed to her by two LEGENDARY female competitors."

Charmaine suffers a dropkick from Trish, "OUCH! NOT THE FACE!"

Into a piledriver combination from Lita, "OUCH! PAIN! HURT!"

Stephanie, Paul and André observe the in-ring disaster, the foremost realizing that she's not only placed her friend in danger, but also her marriage. Her family's legacy, as well. Not to mention the reputation of the DIVAS locker room.

André looks to the Levesque couple with remorseful character. "Stephanie, Paul," the former initiates, taking off his glasses and gazing upon them with sincerity. "I have a confession to make. You see, I really wanted to tackle your marriage next because I've noticed how disgruntled and distant you two are towards each other. Now why that is, I don't know. But you two HAVE to come up with a solution to this. Or else travesties like what you see in the ring will happen over and over again. And the follow-ups will become worse and worse, until eventually ... Your marriage _and_ your careers will be over."

Charmaine suffers a tag-team clothesline to the face, which injures her jawline, "OWPH! YER BWOKE MAH GWILL!"

"Good!," Trish and Lita giggle with enjoyment.

Stephanie stands, approaches the ring and exercises her authority. "Stop this, right now!," she demands, earning her workers' attention. "I want this session to stop. Girls, help Ms. Larkin out of the ring. Pronto."

The DIVA bystanders back away, not lending a helping hand.

Clearly, the DIVAS are conspiring against their employer; an internal, passive strike force. They mean harm, but they won't lift a finger. After all, _the_ _hardest punch_ comes from _the unseen hand_.

Stephanie outrages, "Fine! I'll do it myself!"

Stephanie enters the ring, where she discovers Charmaine in an odd position: her entire body is (literally) twisted like a pretzel! Contortions and dislocations that one would consider "humanly unsustainable". Better yet, it's a _miracle_ that Charmaine is still alive and breathing, let alone suffering a world of pain.

"OW-HOW-HOW-HOW ~ CHA!," Charmaine cries like a child.

Stephanie kneels next to her contorted friend. "Char, oh my god!," she marvels with pity. "I can't believe this! They just ... How is this even possible?! You look like you just had a fight with a pretzel maker!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUB IT I-HIN-HIN-HIN-HIN ~ NA!"

"Don't worry, Char. I'm going to get you the best surgeon money can buy."

Paul and André look on from the bleachers, laughing like evil little imps, "HER! Heh-heh-her-heh-heh-HER!"

* * *

**Intermission ... ... ... ...**

* * *

**Alright. Now, on to Act II ... ...**


	11. World Tour 3: Tokyo, Act 2

**(~~~ * Act II * ~~~)**

* * *

**Scene I**

**Scene**

Transitional setting. Later on that evening, after the MAIN EVENT taping. Transitions between the Hinageshi Ladies Club and Toshiro's Spot (both color swaps of each other.) Same setting has Keiko's Eatery, only accommodated with disc jockey and surrounding dance floors. Hinageshi has pink and white tints, and Toshiro's has blue and black hues. Paul sits at a table (center stage) with his friends Stephen, Stuart, and Theodore (Toshiro's; Matthew is sick in this episode, and is unable to attend the meeting). Stephanie sits at table with a few of her friends – Natalie, Celeste, ad Layla (Hinageshi). After hearing the rumors about Stephanie and Paul's predicament, the guys and the girls have decided to engage each of them with a (separate) group intervention.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"So Paul, tell us," Stuart initiates, his temper apparent.

"Yes?"

"Have you lost your EVER LOVING mind?"

Stuart's harsh question takes Paul aback with shock. "Oi, lay off him, fella," Stephen eases Stuart back, realizing how excitable the Englishman can become. "He's going through marriage problems. Not planning a bank heist."

"Oh. Sorry."

Theodore intervenes, extending his sentiments, "Stephe's right. Natty and I aren't all that cool right now, so I know what Paul's going through. It isn't easy being married, especially when ... ..."

Theodore shuts up, inciting suspicion in Paul.

"TJ ...," Paul initiates with a big smile.

"Y-Yeah?," Theodore trails away in a stutter, killing his defenses.

"... especially when WHAT? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh. Um. Y-You know. I mean everyone knows that, er ..."

"Er WHAT?"

"... ... Steph wears the pants in the house, don't kill me," Theodore confesses, cringing with fear of retaliation.

Stephen and Stuart trail to Theodore with annoyed expressions.

The latter swats Theodore on the back of the head, "Idiot!"

"Ouch!," Theodore cringes with pain.

**(* * *)**

At The Hinageshi, the girls console Stephanie, who has realized the error of her ways.

The unhappy executive acknowledges that her marriage is in the rocks. For the past few years, her communication skills have suffered drastically, which is due to her busy work schedule. At least THAT is what she's explained to the girls.

"I've had so much going on," she cries, wiping her tears with a napkin. "I just ... I just wish he would open up to me!"

The girls ogle and nod at Stephanie, realizing she's making up a sappy sob story. For once, the girls wish their "boss lady" would stop making excuses and attempt to fix her marriage. This type of act – they've seen it WAY too many times, and it's starting to get a bit old. Not to mention it's attracting a lot of _unwanted_ attention.

Layla consoles her (feigningly) weeping friend. "There, there," she pats Stephanie's shoulder. "No more tears."

Stephanie blows her nose in her napkin.

"... And boogies. Please. I beg of you."

"But I can't help it!," Stephanie cries.

"That's because you _really_ _don't_ _help_ that much, dear."

"Paul hangs around us every blue moon," Natalie intervenes, stating the obvious. "But seriously. Even WE can tell when he's not feeling all that well. I mean, come on. When we were at Club 281 back in Houston, the poor guy was clung to us like a new fur coat. You couldn't peel him off with the jaws of life."

"Peel him off ...?"

"He was nervous, Steph. If a man's acting like a scared little boy around his friends, _obviously_ something's bothering him."

Celeste intervenes, though her approach is a bit more subtle. "You know what, Steph," she initiates, grasping Stephanie's attention. "I think you really need to sit down and talk with him. I mean we're talking about Triple H here, THE Cerebral Assassin. And you're 'the crown princess' of the McMahon Family, born and raised by sports entertainment royalty."

"Yeah, so?," Stephanie sniffs.

"What I'm trying to say is ... ... Steph. It's not rocket science. You two have ten years of marriage and three beautiful daughters, not to mention a house about as big as the Neverland Ranch. And three crazy dogs that can take a bigger bite out of crime than Scruff McGruff. But I digress."

Stephanie snarls amidst her tears, "I _know_ that already, CECE!"

"Do you? From what we heard, _your_ bad decisions and _his_ submissiveness are the main reason behind this. Both of you have played a part in this fiasco, and the only way you're going to solve this is ... ..."

Celeste silences herself, leaving room open for Stephanie to contemplate. Stephanie trails off, realizing the reason behind her friends' silence ... ... She ponders her situation for a few moments.

**(* * *)**

"You talk to her, Paul," Stephen advises.

Paul looks off, emotional and on the verge of tears.

Stuart smiles, realizing how deeply Paul loves his wife. "You don't have to say it, chum," the former supports. "Your wife is a lovely woman with a great personality. Minus the few ... Um ... Er, _several_ odd setbacks."

Paul glares at Stuart, offended by his statement.

Theodore returns the favor and smacks Stuart on the back of the head, "Now who's the idiot?"

"... Ouch!," Stuart cringes in pain.

**(* * *)**

"... You're right, girls," Stephanie admits. "I'm a spoiled little princess who's always had things handed to her. I'm taking my marriage for granted, and in the course of that ... ..."

The girls sit and await a conclusion.

"... in the course of that ...," Stephanie struggles.

Layla holds Stephanie's hand, "We're here, dear. Take your time."

**(* * *)**

"We chased each other away," Paul admits. "I was too quiet and she was too loud. Normally, in most situations, it's the other way around, but ... ... But that doesn't matter. I need to have a talk with my wife. A _long_ one."

Stephen smiles, "Been listening to André, have you?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

"You're starting to sound like him. That's Dré's type of talk you're spitting there, boss man."

"Oh. So it is."

Paul takes a second to contemplate how he should approach his wife. "I've got an idea for you," Stuart proposes. "Spend an evening with her. Candlelit dinner. Soft music. Be romantic with her."

"Stuart, no offense," Paul interjects. "But I'm trying to talk things out with my wife, not make babies."

"No, no, no. It's not anything like that. Take her to dinner, not to the bedroom."

"Dinner, huh? Sounds good. But I don't know many places in Tokyo, so ... ..."

Stephen immediately comes up with an idea.

"On the way here, I saw this nice little establishment called Chez Aino's just up the street," he suggests. "Nice little setting. Comfy atmosphere. I say it's a sure win. Fancy taking the Missus there, boss man?"

"Here-here, Stephe," Theodore agrees, showing moral support. "Make things intimate yet personal. The healing kind, not the 'I'm sorry can we go make the bed shake' kind. That just wouldn't be right, no offense."

**(* * *)**

"Afterwards, I say you two spend a little quality time with your babes," Layla suggests.

"Um, Lay," Stephanie giggles with amusement. "They're not _necessarily_ babies anymore."

"Oh, nonsense. They'll ALWAYS be our little ones."

"That they will."

Celeste suggests with a smile, "Have you ever thought about camping?"

Stephanie's face cringes with disgust.

"Eww!," she repels. "Camping? Of all things?"

"Oh, come on! It could be fun, as long as you know what you're doing."

"Well, as you can probably tell – I DON'T know the first thing about camping."

**(* * *)**

"I'll teach her _everything_ she needs to know," Paul enthuses, having had the same thing suggested to him.

"Good, good," Stuart, the referrer, smiles.

"It'll be a perfect little getaway. Just have to plan this out with the Missus."

"See? A little progression already."

Stephen intervenes, sharing a little advise, "Now all you need to do is make things right."

"But make sure it's even on both ends," Theodore interjects.

"And please, for Pete's sake," Celeste implores to Stephanie. "Please. Don't be overbearing and controlling? If not for you and your husband, for your little girls."

Stephanie shoots Celeste a fierce glare.

"I am NOT overbearing. And I am CERTAINLY NOT controlling."

"Oh, _yes_ you are," the girls harmonize.

"How am I controlling?," Stephanie snaps for the waitress. "Hitomi! Five whiskeys and make it SNAPPY!"

The girls ogle Stephanie with awe. Not the good kind.

Stephanie notices them, and snaps, "WHAT?"

"... That's what _we_'_d_ like to know," the girls harmonize.

**(* * *)**

"I mean it's not like we AREN'T capable of communicating," Paul enthuses, developing his mood.

Stephen rejoices, "Good form, fella."

"I like where this is going, as well," Stuart seconds.

"Gentleman," Theodore smiles. "I think this is going to work.

**(* * *)**

"... ... It's not going to work," the girls harmonize.

Stephanie takes a gulp of her whiskey ... ... And burps.

"BUR ~ P ...!"

The Hinageshi is lit with the smell of hard liquor and years of internal body heat!

Several evacuate the area, but the girls remain behind. They want to support their friend, no matter what.

Yes. No matter what ... ... Even if the stench of whiskey stirs their insides, provoking regurgitation.

Natalie looks to the sky with earnest character. "God," she prays aloud. "Please. _Please_, get rid of this FUNK?"

The girls begin to fan their menus in Stephanie's direction. As things are, the reconciliation of the Mr. and Mrs. Levesque just might end in disaster ... ... It's either that or a miracle will occur.

No. Miracle's much too cliché ... More like a _phenomenon_!

* * *

**Scene II**

**Scene**

The Tokyo Regional Hospital. White tile floors. Tan walls. Long window stage left. Entrance stage right. Bathroom entrance adjacent to room entrance, placed in an L-angle (cornered). Two beds separated by two nightstands (center stage). Charmaine lays in the leftmost bed, her body back to normal and healing, gazing out the window in deep thought. André enters the hospital room, artificial pink roses and an imitation vase with balloons in hand.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"Good morning, Ms. Larkin," he greets with a smile.

Charmaine notices André, and immediately becomes angry. "What do YOU want?," she barks. "You got what you wanted – I got my a** beat, I'm in a hospital bed, and I won't be bothering you for a couple of months!"

André laughs, "Really? That's what you think I wanted?"

"What else is there?"

"... Girl, you've got a _lot_ to learn about me," André approaches and hands Charmaine her gifts. "Here. I had these arranged for you. They're not much, and they only convey _half_ of what I want to say."

Charmaine takes her gifts ... And instantly notices something.

"Hey!," she outrages. "This is some cheap, fake bulls***!"

"Yeah, but you can only do so much on a budget," André smiles, having a seat next to Charmaine.

Charmaine calms down, and smiles, "But it was sweet of you to come see me."

"Ms. Larkin, hear me out ..."

Charmaine ties her balloons around her vase, and places her arrangement on the nearest nightstand to her left. "Okay," she composes herself, attempting to be ladylike. "I got time for that. So, um ... What's up, Stuck Up?"

André adjusts his glasses and glares at her.

"Sorry ...," Charmaine apologizes.

"Naturally so, I hope," André composes himself, and speaks seriously. "Ms. Larkin, you didn't have to put up that act back there. Your actions, combined with the actions of our mutual friends, led to ..."

André looks at Charmaine and speaks with his hands, "... all of this."

"You don't have to remind me," Charmaine turns away, embarrassed.

"The girls, Sheamus and I ran into a woman who acted quite similar to you. Her name's Uvula."

Charmaine ogles André with a mixture of humor and confusion. "Don't ask," the latter smiles. "I don't know, either."

Charmaine laughs.

André continues, "But anyway, this said woman had marital problems. Mainly has to do with homewreckers."

"How did that go?," Charmaine wonders.

"Terrible at first. REALLY terrible."

"She was acting up like me, huh?"

"Oh, no, no, no," André shakes his head with a smile. "No, you're a _lot_ worse."

Charmaine hawks with offense. "Hey, look at it this way," André compares. "She didn't wind up in a hospital bed. Not to mention she was dealing with marital problems. _You_'_re_ dealing with an ego problem."

"I do NOT have an ego problem!"

André ogles Charmaine with disbelief.

Charmaine eventually gives in, "... ... Okay. Maybe I do. But who doesn't?"

"Every 7 out of 10 people have ego problems," André states. "So not _every_ person has that problem."

"Um. _You_ have that problem."

"I know that."

"Then who are YOU to talk?"

"The person you need to be speaking with right now."

"Says who, your college degree?"

"No, says someone who's _just_ like you," André confesses, silencing Charmaine.

Charmaine is the type that fears what other people think about her. Thus, she create a public façade, painting a sassy mask of deception that often gets her into trouble. André has the same problem, only his is of a different caliber.

André believes that he must be strong in order to be socially accepted. He's not afraid to address this issue to anyone, especially to his family and close friends. André's just more experienced when it comes to hiding his weaknesses. Compared to Charmaine, he's the weaker one ... Charmaine is open and blunt about her problems, whereas he's perfected keeping it a secret. Bottling it up, hidden from the public eye.

Then again, the less people know you, the better.

**(* * *)**

After a little talk, the two finally come to an understanding.

"... D***! We're like two sides of the same coin, huh?," Charmaine realizes.

André laughs, "We are. And that's why we butt heads so much."

"I know, right."

"Right, indeed."

They laugh for the first time, developing a hint of respect for each other.

"You know what, Stuck Up?," Charmaine initiates.

"Yeah, Cut Up?"

"... You're alright."

"You too," André suddenly remembers something. "Ah. Before I forget, the DIVAS asked to train you again."

Charmaine panics, having flashbacks of the beating she suffered at the hands of Trish Stratus and Lita. "Calm down, Ms. Larkin, please," André eases, showing psychological support. "Look. The only reason why those women beat you up like that was to teach you a lesson: You aren't the best, and you're not invincible."

"But them hands ... THEM HANDS! THE HURT! THE PAIN ...!"

"Ms. Larkin, please," André coaches, and Charmaine complies. "Relax. Relate. Release ... ..."

Charmaine takes a deep breath, and exhales. Though her breathing is huffed with nervousness.

"Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo-HEE-HUH-hum ~ AH!"

André consoles her, having experienced such cases in the past. "You'll be hospitalized until your 100%," he explains. "We'll keep you here and handle the bill until further notice. And when you're fit enough, we'll recommence your training –"

"THEM HANDS!," Charmaine snaps. "LORD JESUS, THEM HANDS! BOOM-SHACKA-LACK! BOOM SHACK!"

"Ms. Larkin, please," André re-coaches. "Relax. Relate. Release ... ..."

"Guh ...," Charmaine inhales, then exhales dramatically. "... woo-her-HEE-HER-huh-hum ~ AH!"

"And stop that!"

"Okay," Charmaine laughs.

André laughs as well. "I got to admit," Charmaine confesses. "I deserved that whooping. Got my head straight."

"At least you're woman enough to admit that," André smiles.

"I just wish ... ..."

Charmaine loses grip with what she wants to say.

"You wish to what, Ms. Larkin?," André wonders.

"... I wish I _could_ be a DIVA. But I'm not sure if I have what it takes."

"You do."

Charmaine looks at André with shock, "I do?"

"You can do whatever you put your mind to. That's what's so awesome about humans."

"And people take that for granted, right?"

"No. They don't."

"They don't?," Charmaine intrigues.

"No. Never. You see, humans do lots and LOTS of things. Most of the time, they really don't use their heads. They use their 'heads,' if you know what I mean. And THAT leads to tons of problems."

"Sho you right. Sho you right."

"I know I am, heck, you're talking to a guy with ego problems. But that doesn't stop me from being respectful."

Charmaine becomes silent, once again, realizing that André's referring to her. "What I'm trying to say is," the latter continues, making an offer. "Ms. Larkin. I want you to join my life-reformation program."

"Me?," Charmaine marvels.

"You're just like me, Ms. Larkin. If I can help someone with problems like my own, I won't hesitate. I'll tackle the issue. Full force. No holding back, no reluctance ... ... That and I like making new friends."

Charmaine smiles, nearly emotional.

"So what do you say, Ms. Larkin?," André extends.

Charmaine takes a moment to think ... ...

She then extends her hand to André. "I'd like nothing more," she smiles, shaking hands with him. "Stuck Up."

André delights, "I'm so glad. Cut Up."

The way things are looking, this appears to be the beginning of a beautiful ... and somewhat _disputatious_ friendship.

... ... Yeah, I know. All hell's going to break loose.

* * *

**Scene III**

**Scene**

The next evening at Chez Aino's. Velvet carpeting. Cream walling with glazed wooden framing. Smooth tables also made from the lattermost wooding, with steel leggings. Napkin and menu arrangements on each table. Twin doors in the background leading to the other side of restaurant. Building entrance stage left. Kitchen entrance stage right. Restroom entrances afore kitchen entrance. Extras tending to routines; some dining (customers), others serving (workers). Paul and Stephanie sit at the centermost table enjoying a candlelit dinner, amid several other couples.

**X~~~*~~~X**

"So, Honey," Paul initiates.

Stephanie belches, "What?"

Paul pauses and closes his eyes to maintain his composure.

"... ... Anyway," he reinitiates. "I wanted to talk about us."

"What about us?"

"That's the thing."

"What is?"

"Us, Honey," Paul holds his wife's hand. "We're married, yet we barely do anything together. We don't talk. And when we do, we fight like children. We have three beautiful girls, a lovely home, a wonderful family, and great friends."

Stephanie smiles, realizing that what her husband says is true. "But Honey," Paul recaptures her attention. "The one thing I'm happy to have the most ... The one person in my life that made all of this possible ... Honey, it's you."

Paul kisses Stephanie's hand, making her cry. "I'm so sorry," she apologizes, before a burp escapes her lips. "Excuse me."

Paul pauses and closes his eyes, once again. "Bad habit, I know," Stephanie continues, before noticing several people staring at her. "Um. What am I, a sideshow? Get back to eating, gees!"

Paul laughs for the first time in years. His wife joins him, another breakthrough.

"You can be so uncouth, you know that?," Paul wipes a tear from his eye.

Stephanie sighs with relief, "And you're really sweet."

"Aww, Honey," Paul gives his wife a kiss.

Paul clears his throat, having taken a whiff of old whiskey in his throat. "It's good to know I have such a loving man in my life," Stephanie appreciates. "Paul. I'm sorry for being so ... So ... ..."

"Hyperactively obnoxious, manly and negligent?," Paul interjects.

Stephanie glares at him, but her glare fades into laughter, "... Yeah. That."

"Well, I'm sorry for letting it drag on for so many years," Paul extends. "We've both been busy and somewhere down the line, we messed up. But I'm willing to work with you. Not just for ourselves, but also for our little girls ... ... I want to paint a better picture for them. The right way."

"Me too, Huggy Bear," Stephanie weeps.

Paul grabs his wineglass. "I propose a toast," he says, as Stephanie repeats the gesture. "To a fresh start. May it flow by beautifully, lovingly, pleasantly, and passionately ... And I love my Honey."

"Cheers to that," Stephanie smiles. "And I love my Huggy Bear."

Mr. and Mrs. Levesque touch their wineglasses.

After years of (dysfunctional) marital woes, Paul and Stephanie rekindle their marriage with a gesture of love. Bright hopes await them, but ... ... Will it last forever? Or will more troubles come their way?

* * *

**Okay. That's it for the body of the episode. Now, it's on to the Lesson Learned ... ...**


	12. A Lesson Learned with Paul (1)

**~ A Lesson Learned with Paul ~**

**Scene**

In the living room of the Levesque Residence. Big, comfy couch, two-seater and recliner set center stage. Chestnut wooden coffee table set afore the living room set, a satin rug underneath it. Glazed wooden floors and cream walls. Family portraits on walls. Living room embellishments and accessories, including an entertainment center afore the living room set. Front door stage left. Entrance to kitchen stage right. Piano afore the kitchen entrance. Staircase on rightward side of backstage. Entrance to downstairs rooms on leftward side of backstage. Paul is sitting on the couch reading a newspaper, enjoying his day off, lounging around the house in his pajamas for a change. He's alone at the moment. Paul then notices the audience and begins a monologue.

**X~~~*~~~X**

Hey! Good to see you again.

Oh, and welcome to my home. Nice little setup, huh?

... And before you say it – NO, the Missus didn't pick any of this out. I did it. Along with a little help from my girls.

Remember. Stephanie was normally sitting on the couch, drinking beer and grabbing her ... lady parts. Then again, I don't need someone else to take care of me, so I took the initiative for about seven years.

(Paul places his newspaper on the coffee table. He then kicks up his BIG feet on the said table, and lounges on the couch.)

So this is the result of patience, hard work and dedication. And prayer ...LOTS of prayer.

You're probably wondering what happened we left Tokyo ... ... Well. If you must know, we came home. I asked for a little time off, which gives my family some time to go camping. Odd thing, though – Steph and I came up with the idea at the same time, saying we got the idea from our friends.

Yeah. We were setup.

But this is the way I look at it: It's a good thing. It'll give us time to ourselves, something we haven't had in years.

(Paul's cellphone rings. He answers it.)

_Hello_?

_Oh, hey there, Pops_!

(Paul pulls away from the phone to address the audience.)

It's my father-in-law. Hold on. This will only take a moment.

(Paul returns to the call.)

_Oh_,_ yeah_,_ I_'_m here_. _What's cooking, Pops_?

(Mr. McMahon delivers a delightful bombshell.)

_Really_? _Ms_._ Larkin is doing great_, _you say_?

_Awesome_. _Tell her I wish her well_, _and_ ... ...

(Mr. McMahon makes an offer to Paul. Paul is pleased with what he hears.)

_Really_? _For us_?

_Aww_, _Pops_, _that_'_s great_. _I_'_m pretty sure the girls will LOVE it_.

(Mr. McMahon ends the conversation on a good note.)

_Okay_, _Pops_. _Thanks_.

_I_'_ll let Steph know_.

_Okay_ ... _Bye_, _Pops_. _Love you much_.

(Paul ends the call and places his cellphone on the coffee table. He returns to addressing the audience, and is apparently ecstatic about his father-in-law's offer.)

That was Pops calling to offer us a trip to the _grand_ **_Lake Waikimiki_**. I've wanted to go to Waikimiki since I was a little kid, but MY old man _never_ "had the time nor the funds" to take me there.

Sure makes up for lost time, spending a weekend at Waikimiki will my wife and my three lovely daughters ... ...

(Paul envisions.)

... Yep. That's what life's about. Or my name isn't _Canoeing_ ... ...

(Paul awakens from his vision, realizing his verbal screw up.)

Um. Ahem! I mean, Paul. Yeah. My name is Paul ... ...

Where did I get "Canoeing" ...?

(Paul refocuses the topic.)

Nevermind. Here's what I've heard about the gang:

They're headed to Spain next. Won't be back to America for about another week. Moms said there's been a change of plans.

You see, we were _supposed_ to head back to American today, but that's been changed. Why, I don't know. That doesn't mean business won't keep booming; the entire gang's ready to perform.

Oh, and yeah. I've also heard about some beef between Natalie and Celeste. Then again, they travel with each other quite a bit, so there's bound to be some tension there ... ... Who knows. Besides, it's none of my business.

(Paul retrieves his newspaper from the table. He then smirks at the audience.)

Yeah. It was Layla.

(Paul brings things to a close.)

Anyway, ladies and gentlemen. Time for me to end this little chitchat, though I'm doing most of the talking.

But hey, feel free to drop by anything. My doors are always open ... ... Then again, you'll have to lookout for three rough Rottweilers named **_Dinky_**, **_Winky_** and **_Moe_**.

My wife named them. Not me.

...

Okay. I'm going to get back to this newspaper.

(Paul comes across a rather disturbing article.)

Ugh ...!

Who knew you could get a rash THAT big?

UGH, and it's shaped like the Statue of Liberty!

(Paul throws the newspaper away, disturbed. He stands and excuses himself.)

I'm, uh ... Ahem. I'm going to go vomit.

See you later, everyone.

(Paul feels sick.)

WARF! Oh boy ... ...

(Paul runs into the kitchen.)

* * *

**And that's all for Episode 3! Hope you enjoyed the guest appearances. I actually planned on having several guest starts, not just ones onscreen but also legends and veterans. Lita and Trish are only the beginning :). Anyway, I wanted to let you also know that I've started on the next Sequence of Dreamscape. I'm currently simplifying my Sequences down to two acts, four to five scenes an act. That will make my work an easier, faster and more convenient read. Like I said before in Dreamscape, I want things to remain interesting. Also, in that stories, there will be more cliffhangers. Yeah. I'm going there.**

**Anyway, I want you all to know that I'm pleased with the comments I've gotten thus far on this story. Makes me work to work on more. And if you have't noticed, the next scene will focus on either Celeste or Natalie. So which one would you like this to be about? Kaitlyn or Natalya (for those who don't know their real names)? Send me your choices. I'm off to bed. Got work in the morning. Ciao :)!**

**~ Dion Mystique, Author**


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